WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN!

[yvette johanna ledeaux]

BUT SURE ENOUGH, JUST WHEN

[/color]
i'd near given up, you appeared there amongst the
DESTRUCTION. WELL, NOW IT'S OFFICIAL.[/size][/color][/center]

It would probably be considered a strange thing for a girl to wish for her period. In all honesty, it was. There were times when Yvette’s friends joked about getting pregnant just so they wouldn’t have to live with it for nine months. At that point Yvette would be laughing. She wasn’t laughing anymore. Did her friends know how nerve wracking it was to come out of a relationship involving sex and then realize, ‘oh, I was due to get my period two weeks ago’? No! They did not know! Being so concerned like this made Yvette sort of distant from the rest of her family. Her brother was the only one who seemed to notice her pacing and staring off into space lost in thought. Sometimes she thought about the worst case scenario, sometimes she imagined the best. Sometimes she was just wondering what she would do either way. She’d be relieved if she woke up with cramps one day, but she imagined that she could also feel slightly disappointed. As much as she didn’t want a kid, she almost felt like she wanted it just as badly. It was usually a glorified thing on t.v.; Hot teen mom buying cute clothes for their kid… Or they put it up for adoption and the problem is solved. They make it look so easy. They never say anything about the worry, about the counting of days, about buying a pregnancy test and handing it to the cashier with a shaking hand because the cashier happened to be a son of an old family friend. What was worse was that it came back negative but nothing about Yvette’s cycle changed. It didn’t suddenly come, she wasn’t suddenly craving her usual ‘warning foods’ as she called them; iced caramel lattes from Dunkin Donuts and cheeseburgers from Wendy’s. She was usually a hamburger girl instead of a cheeseburger girl and she was more of a local café girl than a Dunkin Donuts visitor. Now Yvette was tempted to go out and buy a cheeseburger just so that she could give herself a bit of rest, even if it was just a state of mind.

Yvette way lying on her bed, her head was at the foot of her bed and her feet rhythmically beating her pillows. She hadn’t changed out of her pajamas yet, even though it was nearly five in the afternoon. She only came out of her room for breakfast and her lunch consisted of three Oreos, one bag of chips, a Mountain Dew and unfinished Ramen. The bowl was on her desk beside the package of Oreos, the crumpled bag of chips, and the bottle of Mountain Dew with the cap twisted on tight. She had taken shifts when she was eating. She paced around with her Ramen for a little then had an Oreo, a few chips, some Ramen, and then a drink. The cycled continued like that a few times before she realized she was getting absolutely nowhere with this tactic. All she had to do was go to the bathroom; that she blamed on the excessive amount of Mountain Dew and broth she had taken in from the Ramen. When she left the bathroom she had decided she didn’t want to eat anymore and she vowed never to indulge in that combination of food again. It didn’t settle well and left a disgusting after taste. She brushed her teeth after the bathroom, just to make sure she wouldn’t be reminded of the random lunch she had ‘made’ for herself. It didn’t do much. Instead she had just grumbled to herself and fell on her stomach. She looked like a total mess. One look at her and people would probably assume she had a virus with the way she looked. She had taken a shower the previous night (she wasn’t a fan of showering in the morning if she could help it) and had tied her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head. Although it had become looser over the course of her extremely dull day, it was still there. She wore pajama pants, and at one point she wore slippers too. She managed to kick them off her feet during her rhythmic kicking and now they were on opposite sides of the room. Yvette was also wearing a baggy Mickey Mouse t-shirt which she got a few years ago when she went to Disney in Paris. When she first woke up and saw herself in the mirror, she remembered instantly. Mickey was a kid’s icon. A kid was possibly in her at that very moment. She didn’t look at a mirror for the rest of the day.

Normally when she felt such strong emotions she would write a song. Truth be told, she had tried and failed miserably. All she could come up with were lame rhymes about babies and maybes and ladies and daisies and somehow she managed to rhyme all the way down to the word groceries – she stopped there out of self pity. She wasn’t a bad song writer by any means; she was just so out of it that nothing was connecting. When her mom asked what was wrong, she just said she was over tired and needed to stay out of the sun for a bit. Her mom insisted that Yvette should turn on the window A.C unit. Yvette obeyed as if that would actually make anything better. It only made her colder, but since the old unit made so much noise she knew her mom would tell if she adjusted it at all. The last thing she wanted was her mom knocking on the door to check on her. Instead, she had been lying on her bed for close to two hours hoping that she would be able to sleep and not think about anything, praying to God that something good would happen whether it be she finds a solution or she gets her period, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a sweatshirt under her blankets but she had no motive to move. She could tolerate the cold. She actually kind of liked it. It could make her feel numb, and feeling numb made her know that she could feel something regardless of the fact that she physically couldn’t. When she was finally ready to physically do something, there came a knock on the door. She groaned, realizing how little she really wanted to move, and left her room. She closed the door behind her and was shocked by how warm her house seemed in comparison. She slightly wished that she were back in her bedroom freezing cold. She always preferred being cold to being unnaturally warm. The wood panels beneath her feet were cold though, and she was cautious when she went down the stairs. Having not been up in a while, she didn’t really trust herself on her slippery stairs.

There was another knock on the door so she trotted down the stairs a little faster. “I’m coming,” she called, then said less enthusiastically but more to herself, “I’m coming.” When she reached the landing she decided she didn’t care for her appearance. She was makeup-less, comfortable, and looked awful. She didn’t have the ability to worry about such minor things. When she opened the door though, she suddenly wished she had at least cleaned herself up a bit for the someone before her…

TAGS: CIAN BAGLEY.
STATUS: Complete.
WORD COUNT: 1,242.
OUTFIT: click!
MUSIC: MIGHT HAVE BEEN, kate voegele.
NOTES: <3

[/blockquote][/justify][/size][/font]

[cian william bagley]

Letting out a tired groan, Cian lifted his slightly damp t-shirt from where it covered his stomach, wiping the sweat from his face. Pulling his shirt the rest of the way off, he flung it on the end of his bed, stretching before glancing somewhat thoughtfully at his dresser. After going jogging in the warm California sun a cold shower sounded pretty much wonderful. Shrugging, he instead took a step across his large bedroom, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh. Running his fingers back through his straight, nearly black hair and then down over his slightly stubly face, his eyes shut after a moment. Since getting home from Los Angeles three weeks ago he hadn't really slept that well. The realization he had been kind of a jerk hadn't hit him until that point, but once it did he had felt terrible. He didn't understand it, though, and it bothered him, kept him up at night. His dream of being a singer songwriter she had always supported since around his senior year in high school. It had been expected, at least on some level, by his motivated and successful parents he would step up and follow in the steps of his father, or at least some similarly high profile career, but when he had chosen instead to stay close to home and focus on a career in music with his best friend, it had been Yvette who had understood it and supported him before even Kennedy had accepted his decision. It had meant so much then to have her support, and he supposed frankly it still did. Why else would he have gotten so upset? Cian tended to let things go with some ease, but this was tough. It wasn't like they'd planned a life together exactly or anything, but at least as far as Cian was concerned it was just understood that unless something big changed between them he was going to marry her some day. This, he supposed, was that big something.

Opening his eyes again, his hands now on his fairly undefined stomach, he gazed at the smooth plastered ceiling, painted a light blue, a few shades lighter than the brighter walls of the rest of his room, his eyes tracing over the glow in the dark stars he had so badly wanted when they had moved into this house when he was twelve. It was too bright now to really see them, but he knew where each was from having stared at them the last eight years. When Yvette had slept over he used to love to stare up at them with her in his arms, cheesy as that was. "I guess it's really over," he said to himself, finally acknowledging what he should have long before now. Picking himself up off the bed to where he was sitting with his legs Indian style he gazed around his room for a minute before sliding all the way off and walking out into the hallway. Poking his head in his sister's purple painted room and finding it empty he walked further in and picked up one of the boxes his slightly obsessive neat freak sister had stacked in a corner. They had been emptied the day after she'd gotten home late from college with everything back in the place it had been before she'd left last fall. Pulling the top box out of the one beneath it, he headed back down to his room, not sure where to start. Finally, he pulled open one of the drawers on his dresser, taking out the few pieces of clothing that had ended up staying at his house for... spontaneous instances. A small stack of dvds sat on the dresser beside his tv and he sorted through them, pulling out the ones he knew to be hers. He moved this way about the room adding all sorts of things that had ended up in his room for one reason or another. It took a while to find all the little remnants of her that had landed there over the past eight years and he was sure he'd missed over a thing or two. Setting the box on his bed, Cian indignantly lifted his arm and sniffed before shrugging and walking into his walk-in closet to grab a new t-shirt.

Trotting down the hard wood steps onto the bottom floor, the box tucked under his arm and resting on his hip, he headed into the kitchen where his sister was munching on reheated fried chicken, her eyes glued to the TV which at the moment was turned on C-SPAN. His sister was an odd girl in some ways; the tv was either on something Cian found dreadful like C-SPAN or some chick show like Gilmore girls with little inbetween. "What are they voting on," he asked as he got his keys off the old woodcutting with "The Bagleys" carved into it and four little pegs for their keys to hang on sticking out of it, nodding as she explained the filibuster over gays in the military. Gazing at the tv, he chuckled when he recognized the red-faced senator who decided to talk without ceasing on the topic. "Where do you stand," he asked her as he headed for the door, laughing at her sarcastic "Where do you think?" His sister was the political brainchild of their father and honestly so was he. It was hard not to be in such a politically charged family. Walking out to his silver mustang, Cian slid into the leather seat, starting up the car and heading down the long driveway that lead up to his family's home. The drive was a familiar one he didn't even have to think about as he drove from the nicer side of town where he lived to the more average homes on the northern side of town. Yvette's house really wasn't that much different from his, just a lot smaller.

Gazing up at the house his lips twitched a bit before he opened the door and got out, reaching over the driver's seat to grab the box of her things. He left the top down and thus wasted no time locking the car; he had left it there that way plenty of times before so he had few qualms about doing so. Taking the couple steps up onto the porch, he glanced around, seeing if anything was different but found it was not. Shrugging he rapped his knuckles against the door in a five beat pattern, glancing at the driveway to see if any cars gave away who was home. Honestly, Cian was a little frightened by Yvette's parents. Recently, he had the added fear of having hurt their daughter, but pretty much ever since he'd started sleeping with Evie he had been a bit more on guard with them. Guilty conscience, perhaps, knowing they didn't believe in such things. Her brother, too, being so protective made him uneasy though in a different way. Her brother had always scared him, knowing that he was merely a tolerated presence for the sake of his sister. Whichever way, he wasn't sure what he'd do if someone besides Yvette answered the door. After a minute he gave another quick knock, glad to hear a woman's voice call back, though he couldn't be sure it was Evie and not her mother through the thick door. He stood there perhaps another twenty seconds, his gaze travelling over to the porch swing he used to love to snuggle in when the door opened and his gaze snapped back to it. He shuffled a bit in silence, his slanted almond shaped eyes glancing her over, not checking her out but more taking her in, seeing what had changed. Her unkempt appearance didn't really bother him as far as thinking she looked bad; he had seen her in pajamas without make-up plenty of times before. It was rather the hour of the day that she would herself still so... overly comfortable, combined with just her overall tired, worn down, worried look about her. He had known her plenty long enough to pick up on that kind of thing with only a brief gaze.

Clearing his throat, Cian half-mumbled an excessively awkward, "Hi," before gesturing to the box under his arm. "I, uh, well, I, I," Cian seriously hated his lack of composure the rest of his family was so blessed with, "I thought you might want your stuff back." His lisp was annoyingly obvious as he explained his presence on her doorstep, nervous as sin. "Since you haven't really called me back..." he said more quietly, his voice dropping back into a half-mumble. Shifting uncomfortably, he focused his attention back on her, what she was wearing, the unstyled frizz of her thick blond hair. Perhaps he was being self-obsessed, but if it was him that had caused her to become so... uncaring, he felt kind of bad. The split had affected him, too, but not quite like that, not to the point of apathy. Realizing his palms had become sweaty, which they always did when he was uneasy, Cian glanced around quickly before looking behind Yvette into the air conditioned house. "Do you want me to carry this up to your room," he asked a bit suddenly out of the awkward silence that had slipped over them again, "Or wherever you want it?"

word count ;; 1567
outfit ;; here
car ;; here
lyrics ;; all we are - one republic
notes ;; first civette post! <3

[yvette johanna ledeaux]

BUT SURE ENOUGH, JUST WHEN

[/color]
i'd near given up, you appeared there amongst the
DESTRUCTION. WELL, NOW IT'S OFFICIAL.[/size][/color][/center]

There were always ups and downs with any relationship. Although the relationship that Yvette and Cian had was over, it didn't necessarily mean that things no longer applied. For example, he could still read her like a book if he wanted to. It was difficult to lose that ability after eight years and quite frankly, Yvette didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. In all honesty, she thought it was a great thing most of the time when they were actually together. Now, she wished that he were a stranger. Okay, that was a stretch. She was still glad that she knew him the way he did, as did he with her; it was just a matter of whether it worked to her advantage. Yvette wasn't a manipulative person. She didn't set things up to fall in the perfect order for her. Instead, she liked letting things just happen. This wasn't something that she just wanted to happen though. Had she known he were coming by she would've known that he'd be able to tell that this wasn't how she normally looked in the morning - or at five in the afternoon. Thus, she would've changed and made herself seem more normal. Although she knew he had seen her worse, there was still that knowing inside of her. She knew that he knew that this wasn't natural for her. Sure, she had spent days in her pajamas when she was sick, and even when she wasn't sick, but they were never so... sudden. Normally she'd decide that 'oh, this weekend will be a lazy-do-nothing-in-pjs-all-day weekend,' but she hadn't really decided that. He had seen her on those days too, and those days were much different than this day. She'd be bright, and happy, and although she'd appear a mess, she would clearly be a bubbly girl. This day was the opposite. She appeared a mess, and it was obvious that something was nagging her and it wasn't even that she had just woken up. He had known her when she had just woken up in his arms after falling asleep beneath the stars in his bedroom. This was definately different and she hated the fact that he could easily tell.

She could tell he was uncomfortable, and quite frankly, so was she. She knew this day would come, that someday she'd have to pack up all of the bits and pieces of her that lay around the Bagley residence. She was dreading that day, and he had just made it a whole lot easier on her. Yvette had only imagined picking up a box and packing up every little memory. Peering into the box, she saw it all again and wanted to break down. But she didn't, at least, not visibly. Instead, her mind took the top few items and replayed the story behind them. There was a horror dvd - The Hills Have Eyes - sitting right on top. Yvette had spent the night once and had brought that movie over. She had told him how she always wanted to see it, but was afraid of watching it alone. The night had ended with Yvette having a bad dream. She vowed never to watch that movie again unless Cian was there to comfort her. Now, looking back at that movie cover, she decided she'd let her brother bury it in his mess of a room; that way, she knew she'd never see it again. It was a bit exaggerated, her plans for the dvd in the box, but she couldn't help it. It had hit her hard, and although it may seem like that was the reason she was in such 'poor condition' that day, it hadn't hit her as hard as what actually put her in that state. Sure, things haven't been the same and there were countless reasons for her to be distraught - but as much as they seemed to be the case for everything, they weren't.

"Yeah, uhm," she began, "I'm sorry about that." Yvette wanted to pick up the phone and call him back so many times. She would've too, if not for the fact that she didn't know what to say. Everytime her phone buzzed, everytime she heard his caller ID ringtone she wanted to answer and pour her heart out, but she didn't. She couldn't. So for that, she just simply said she was sorry. Finding that she couldn't exactly figure out was to say, and was unsure as to how deal with what was unraveling, she just nodded to his question. "That'd be nice," she said, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way to let him in, "Yeah... my room's fine."

TAGS: CIAN BAGLEY.
STATUS: Complete.
WORD COUNT: something?
OUTFIT: click!
MUSIC: MIGHT HAVE BEEN, kate voegele.
NOTES: civette awkwardness <3

[/blockquote][/justify][/size][/font]

[cian william bagley]

Clearing his throat, Cian glanced around unsurely, nervously, like prey unsure what the predator was doing. If he had his choice, he would likely just toss the box in her hands and run off, but being a gentleman was a thing Cian prided himself upon. That and this being his first actual break-up (His little tiffs with Evie in the past had been just that, tiffs.) he had not hardened to the point he was a jerk. Well, perhaps he was. He had certainly acted like one when he'd shouted at her and they'd broken up weeks ago. Searching the inside of the house behind her he gazed at the staircase behind the door, thinking of the way she'd looked the second year they'd gone together, his senior prom and her junior. It hadn't been like in the movies with her stepping down all elegantly, but getting in the spirit of things he'd insisted she walk halfway up and then back down and do things properly. Sighing he glanced over at the couch in the living room as silence still prevailed over them, remembering without as much displeasure as he would like the occasional make-out session that had happened on it. To push the thought out of his mind he shifted the memory instead to one of when her mom had caught them and the awkwardness that had insued. He had thought he would never feel more awkward again in his life, to the point he had scarcely laid a hand on Yvette in her house in the last two and a half years. The moment he found himself in, though, blew that time far out of the water.

Cian merely grunted at Yvette's apology for the unreturned phone calls, shrugging before turning his eyes back to her, glancing her up and down with a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He supposed he couldn't blame her for not wanting to talk to him after the way he'd treated her. Then again, he hadn't wanted to talk to her after the way she'd treated him. Really, he didn't know if he had wanted her to answer the phone all the times he had called. He was still on some level bitter over the whole thing, but his father had always told him to step up and be the bigger person, so he was trying. Relationships like the one he'd shared with Yvette weren't supposed to end the way this one was. The only reason couples like the two of them broke up was if there was someone else or they couldn't agree over religion or kids or whatever. A fight like this was one they could work out and Cian kind of wanted to, but he wasn't quite sure how to do so. He was counting on, if in fact he was meant to get back together with her, the perfect moment presenting itself. He had resolved, not entirely happily but resolved all the same, that if she wanted him to become a music teacher or whatever other options that would keep him closer to her he would do it. He knew that sort of compromising would do their relationship no good, but it was better than nothing.

Cian's attractive face nodded when she agreed to let him carry her things up to her room. Stepping inside, he passed her, heading up the stairs and turning to go to her room without looking back. He ambled into her room, a little tense, pausing in the doorway for a moment and gazing around at the familiar interior. It looked mostly the same, though not as neat as he remembered it. Perhaps that was because of the leftover trash from her less than nutritious lunch. His now ex-girlfriend had always been a bit of a bottomless pit, but for some reason he seemed to think that had been the whole of her lunch. Sitting down on her bed beside the box with a little bounce he gazed around the dark room before standing up and going to flip on the light, just as she walked in. "I needed some light... it was kind of dark..." he explained, pushing the switch up and heading back over to the bed, leaning slightly on the box. He glanced inside, opening his lips to say something about the contents before shutting his mouth and glancing around the room again. "So," he began, drawing the word out, "What have you been up to?"

word count ;; 748
outfit ;; here
car ;; here
lyrics ;; all we are - one republic
notes ;; sorry it's taken me forever and it isn't that long. </3

[yvette johanna ledeaux]

BUT SURE ENOUGH, JUST WHEN

[/color]
i'd near given up, you appeared there amongst the
DESTRUCTION. WELL, NOW IT'S OFFICIAL.[/size][/color][/center]

Only one word came to Yvette's mind and it rang like a church bell; it was a little too present in the air, yet she figured it'd become routine to the point where it would blend in. That word was awkward. She supposed it was better than acting all chipper as if nothing had happened because something had happened. At least the awkward tension let her know that she wasn't the only one feeling it. It let her know that she wasn't the only one who had lost something important, wasn't the only one affected and plainly lost. If he only knew how badly she needed him... He had been part of her schedule once. Sort of like in those movies where something was just so constant you didn't even think about it anymore. You just woke up, scrubbed the dishes, kissed your husband and then went off to work. It was only when you realized something was terribly wrong did it hit you that you had taken everything for granted; the dishes, the kiss, everything. Cian was that everything. Yvette liked to think she never took him for granted, but standing there in the doorway she knew she had. How could she have written so many damn songs about love, and perfection, and knowing what she had was everything she ever wanted? Yet, she didn't know. She didn't know that until now and she'd give anything to be able to shove him back in his car, force him to drive home, and put all of her belongings back where they had found a new home. She didn't want anything to change just yet. Cian standing there, with a box full of her crap - each piece connected to something greater, was like the final blow. This wasn't just a little quarrel they had two weeks ago; this was legitimate and it was scary, and hurtful, and everything she wished it didn't have to be. She supposed it was better than being chipper about it.

He didn't accept her apology, she knew that much. He shrugged and mumbled as if he didn't care and perhaps that was what hurt the most so far. How many times did she stare at the caller ID and tear herself up because she didn't know whether to pick up or not. Truth be told, she had picked up the phone a few times when he called, but she timed it right when it went to voicemail so all she heard was the cold dialtone. Yvette figured she would have the same response, and maybe even a smart remark though that was unlike her. She wasn't the smart remark type. She was the type to kindly say the truth in a way that didn't expose the harsh reality. If she saw a beautiful dress, but it looked terrible on somebody asking her opinion, she would kindly say that the dress looked lovely. She didn't lie, she told the truth; the dress itself looked lovely. That's what she would've done if she was given an apology like the one she gave Cian. As ugly as the dress might've looked on the woman, Yvette couldn't let her know how ugly; as sorry as she was for never answering his calls, she could never let Cian know that. Why was it so difficult for her to put everything together and try to make him understand?

When they stepped into her room she got a chill. She had gotten comfortable with the warmth of the rest of the house that the A.C felt like she had just sat in her car in the winter and was waiting for the heat to kick in. Now she was waiting to get comfortable again. It was fairly difficult since Cian was there with her things from his house and everything was less than normal. The crumpled bag of chips was the snack size that parents give their kids for snack at school. The package of oreos was still there, and still open (probably making their way slowly to being stale), but anyone could see that there really wasn't a dent made in them. The half eaten bowl of ramen was exposed to the world, but it was obvious that the Mountain Dew was the only thing that had really filled her. Feeling the need to do something, to think about something else, she went to her soda and drained the last few sips before dropping the bottle into the trash while turning up the AC. She hated the extremeties of temperature. She was never really one to like being cold, yet there she was cranking the AC as high as it could go. Maybe some foolish part of Yvette was hoping that something good would come out of it.

Hmm... Cian's question was a good one and a nice way to take of oxygen that Yvette desperately wanted to lose. Maybe the silence made her inhale too much so she wasn't thinking straight, but that was all backwards. The more air she had, the better she would think yet she was suffocating in the silence. It just wasn't right. "Uhm, well," she scratched her head while tilting it slightly, only to let loose a stray curl. She pushed that behind her ear and wondered what way to answer the question. She was considering lying if only to believe in it herself, but she could never lie to Cian, even if it was something silly. "I haven't really done much... Tried to write a few songs..." she told him, then dropped her voice, "tried being the key word." She looked around the room, trying to find something interesting to preoccupy herself with. Nothing. She found herself looking back at Cian and the dreaded box. "What about you? Something must be interesting, right?" There was definately something interesting about her, she was just debating whether or not to tell him. He would find out eventually, that she was sure of, but she wasn't sure how long it could be put off, and there was the reminder right in front of her. On the floor of her room, half under her bed on the opposite side of Cian (so it wasn't seen by whoever might be in the doorway) was the pregnancy test box. She had read the information countless times before removing the test and sneaking across the hall to the bathroom. It was there, out in the open, only visible to her and she prayed to God that she would be able to kick it under the bed before Cian saw it.

Making her way from the window to where it laid, she acted as though the only thing on her mind was the box and whatever answer Cian would give her. When she was opposite him, she lightly kicked the box while she took a step. At the same time she coughed. It was a fake cough, but it sounded real enough and she was hoping it would cover the sound of the box sliding over the wood floor. Yvette hoped it wouldn't fly out from under her bed or do something crazy that would potentially ruin everything, like hit him. That would be bad.

TAGS: CIAN BAGLEY.
STATUS: Complete.
WORD COUNT: 1199.
OUTFIT: click!
MUSIC: MIGHT HAVE BEEN, kate voegele.
NOTES: hehehe <3 and sorry for the repeated lateness.

[/blockquote][/justify][/size][/font]

[cian william bagley]

Looking around her room, Cian's face had a pensive look. He'd spent a lot of time in here over the course of their nine year friendship, and especially their eight year relationship in this room. They'd watched movies on her tv, played monopoly on the bed, written songs and sang together, they'd crashed here after prom... The memories were literally endless for Cian and they hit him kind of hard. To say the least, not having her in his life left him with an emptiness inside. He genuinely hated not being her boyfriend anymore. He was brought out of this introspection by a shiver running up his spine. Rubbing his arms, he looked over at Yvette, draining the last of her Mountain Dew. "Kinda cold in here, don't you think," he asked, giving her a look as he rubbed his arms. He could swear the thermostat was turned down into the sixties and having spent his entire life in Florida and California he didn't take the cold well. He'd seen snow only once; when he, his mom, and Kennedy had gone to D.C. to visit his dad. He had hated it and vowed to never live anywhere with snow. Thankfully, Yvette didn't long for an arctic climate either. "Thanks," he mumbled as she turned the temperature up a bit, not that it would really help as frigid as it was in there. Come to think of it, it rather described their new relationship, which was honestly pretty bizarre. It wasn't a situation he knew how to deal with, they'd always been very warm with each other, best friends. This wasn't one of those cases, though, where their friendship was easily salvageable, if it could be saved at all. They'd been together for too long and had too much between them to just be friends, even if they wanted to. Nothing could ever be casual between them, no matter how they might try.

Finally Cian could take the silence no longer; he had to say something and so he asked perhaps the second most bland question he could think of, supposing talking about the weather was both moot since they lived in California and highly impersonal. So instead she asked what she'd been up to, knowing it couldn't be anything too interesting, it being summer. He nodded when she said she hadn't done much, smiling slightly when she mentioned trying to write a few songs. He could relate, at least to the feeling. Their shared love of music was one of the things that had held them together for so long. Music was just one of those things. When he couldn't find the right chords it was oftentimes Yvette he had turned to. When the words didn't quite fit he could ask her. When he'd written a song she'd inspired she didn't find it weird for him to show up with his guitar and play it for her. Their relationship had just worked because they shared the music thing in common. He chuckled just slightly, "Funny. I've filled an entire Meade notebook since..." his voice faded over saying the obvious. Granted not all of his songs were good. Some had weak rhyming or poor music to go along with him, but there were a few nice songs in there, things he'd actually be willing to record, if in fact he ever got a recording contract. That seemed less than likely, these days, though he refused to give up.

Cian just shrugged when she asked what had been up with him. "About the same," he said with a little disappointed look, "We, uh, didn't get that recording contract like we'd hoped. If you haven't already heard." It was likely the news had already gotten back to her. Things spread fast in Eureka. He fiddled with the hem of his basketball shorts, before looking up and over at her, "Kennedy's home, though, which is fun. She can't stop talking about her classes. It's just us since Mom's on a speaking tour." Yvette knew how close he was with his family and further she got along well with them. Both his mom and Kennedy liked Evie; Kenny had been shocked when he'd told her about the break-up and his mother had just shaken her head, though always supporting and positive had baked two dozen chocolate chip cookies to console him. That was just his mom, though. He honestly wouldn't be shocked if she'd sent Yvette cookies with a positive note, too. It wasn't like she hadn't done it before. "But that's about it," he said with a little sigh. There was, of course, much more to the story of his summer thus far, but none of it he wanted to admit. Once he'd gotten back from LA, on top of being sincerely disappointed over the record deal not working out, he had been angry, before slipping into a phase of depression, and then turning to distracting himself almost constantly by going running or zoning out with TV.

He wasn't really paying a whole lot of mind to Yvette as she walked over to the side of the bed, figuring she'd just sit down or something. Looking over her way, something caught his eyes, a blue package with white lettering. Just as she kicked the box, the action not getting his attention, his eyes grew wide and he exclaimed suddenly, "Whoa! Are those Oreos?" Leaning back he snatched the box, sitting back up and peeling back the resealable packaging to get one out. Food like oreos weren't exactly allowed in the Bagley household. His mother liked to make pretty much anything she could so very little processed food could be found in the cupboards. The only time they had that sort of thing was when his mom went on her speaking tours, but as she'd just left Cian hadn't bothered to stock up on junk food just yet. Looking up at Evie as he split the cookie in half and began to lick the white cream away, he could tell she was hiding something by her expression, her entire demeanor really. "Yvette, is something..." he began to ask her why she looked so guilty and like she was holding something back, then chickened out, deciding she'd tell him if she really wanted to. He wasn't her boyfriend anymore, he no longer had the right to be privy to everything in her life. Shrugging his shoulders and taking another Oreo, he finally finished his sentence, "Uh, never mind."

It never for a second would have passed Cian's mind that what Yvette was hiding was a possible pregnancy. Honestly, when it came to that, Cian had an invincibility complex. There were few things he let himself feel invincible about, but the possibility of knocking up his girlfriend seemed like something that could never happen to him. He had always just sort of tuned out the talks when he was in high school given by the sex ed teachers. He had never really for a moment thought to stay abstinent or anything like that. He didn't see any reason to in a committed relationship like he had with Yvette. It couldn't happen to them anyway, at least in his mind, and since he had planned to marry her someday anyway what did it matter. He was responsible, they'd always been safe about it, or at least as safe as possible. Occasionally stuff happened, breaks or slips, but that was unavoidable. It just didn't seem possible and honestly it was probably good Evie was hiding it from him because he would freak out. He wouldn't know what to do aside from be scared out of his mind. It was just too big to deal with. He wasn't ready for that at this point in his life and truly, he didn't really want to be.

word count ;; 1305
outfit ;; here
car ;; here
lyrics ;; all we are - one republic
notes ;; ...

[yvette johanna ledeaux]

BUT SURE ENOUGH, JUST WHEN

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i'd near given up, you appeared there amongst the
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Yes, funny indeed. Yvette had no problem writing sad songs, writing angry songs, or writing love songs. Song writing was her thing. She could always write those songs more when she was actually in a relationship because then she had the ability to get mad, to get sad because she would be able to feel what she was going to lose. Now she just felt numb so there were no words she could find. It was unfair. Unfair - that word seemed to be popping up a lot in her mind. She deserved better, as did he. He was a great guy and she had so much of her life that was his too. He was her inspiration for so long that without him it was like there was absolutely nothing, just a dark abyss. He would find the words when she couldn't and finish the chords that were never resolved. He was truly talented so when she was told he didn't get the record deal, she couldn't help but let her jaw drop. "No I haven't heard," she admitted. I haven't really gotten out much, if you couldn't tell, she thought. "I'm sorry to hear that." She really had a lot more to say, but she felt awkward as if it wasn't her place anymore. It wasn't.

Yvette loved Kennedy, and Kennedy loved Yvette. Now she wasn't so sure if it was a mutual liking anymore since Yvette hadn't seen her in a while. They used to go shopping together and out to coffee like the mature girls they usually were. However, they hadn't done that since the day after the break up. They had discussed Cian's 'devastation' which Yvette wasn't sure she believed had actually existed at that point. Then they had discussed how Yvette was holding up and she had reluctantly admitted that she hadn't slept the night before, and she felt as though she were slowly dying inside. How dramatic. Since then things have slowly gotten better because she hadn't had to associate with the Bagley family. Occasionally she would chat on IM with Kennedy, and she would have an internal battle between whether or not to answer the phone or IM Cian. When she thought of the family or saw Mr. Bagley on the news she would go back to the trainwreck she was the day of the breakup. Hearing about Kennedy made her smile and want to go out for coffee or something because after having a surprise visit from Cian, she definately could use some of Kennedy's good ol' calming down periods. She gave a smile at the Kennedy comment (Kennedy would talk about her classes). "That's good, tell her I say hi," she told him. She wanted him to tell her so that maybe she'd get an idea that perhaps a chat at the Crazy Cafe would be necessary in the near future.

She was thankful for the fact that he was distracted by the Oreos, and that she hadn't over done her little tap-kick-thing of the dreaded box. Still, that wasn't enough. He could read her like an open book and there was no way she could lie to him. She'd never been really good at lying to anyone, but he was especially hard. Her eyes gave it away every time no matter how solid her voice sounded. Still, it was better to lie now than admit everything was technically wasn't anything because the test had come back negative. "No, nothing's wrong, not really," she lied. It technically wasn't a lie because it wasn't really wrong, it had been negative which was right, right? Here's where the dam began to bend. She wanted to breakdown right then and there, but nope. She held it together and started concocting a story that wasn't a real lie. "It's just one of AJ's friend. She came to me with something huge and she was really scared and I can't stop thinking about it," which was actually the entire truth. She was AJ's best friend and his sister, and the potential pregnancy tested as negative was something huge that scared her immensely, and now she couldn't stop thinking about it. So there, it wasn't a lie. It was the truth without her name revealed, but damn her eyes; they had the worry and every other emotion and truth written on them.

TAGS: CIAN BAGLEY.
STATUS: Complete.
WORD COUNT: i dunno.
OUTFIT: click!
MUSIC: MIGHT HAVE BEEN, kate voegele.
NOTES: again, sorry for the delay.

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