shadows. [porter]

[steph2]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/2vafwqd.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 400px; height: 500px;] CLICK FOR OUTFIT Her eyelids fluttered a bit as she looked up at all the fish around her. It was late, too late for her to be in the aquarium looking at fish but she wanted to scream somewhere no one could hear her or would care to. After paying off the night guard to let her in and leave her be, she managed to find herself in that dark hallway and she couldn't bring herself to scream. She just sat there looking a whole lot less glamorous than usual. She had no make up, a rare sight, and wore some nude flats, tiny distressed denim shorts, and a black spaghetti strap chiffon tank top. Everything hung off her like she was a coat hanger and her long hair was messy and spilling over her thin shoulders. Her hands were trembling as she looked down at her arms. There were faint track marks developing along her veins and she was, well, tired. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and just not wake up anymore. She yelled at Nolan that morning. She yelled at him when he'd brought her home from Alibi, had gotten her safe. She yelled at him that she couldn't stand anything anymore and that she was going insane. She yelled at him that she couldn't stand his paintings and had thrown them around like a mad woman, like he meant nothing to her but he meant absolutely everything...to the point where it ached and took up all of her time. His face, his expressions, his tattoos, his effortless beauty and way of going about things, his history, him. All her thoughts were consumed by him and she couldn't stand it. She wrapped her arms around her torso as the past, well, month, replayed in her head and she dug her nails deep into the crook of her arms. She was pale, her eyelids tinted pink from the lack of sleep, her lips a tiny bit purple-just enough to be noticeable-from the lack of, well, the basics. She stopped buying from Nolan-she could see the guilt on his face whenever she was sober-for those few precious minutes. She'd found another dealer outside of town to ease his own conscious but it wasn't enough. She constantly needed more and she knew that was what killed the baby-Porter's baby. Yeah, she didn't love him, but she'd ruined him and Charlotte and she wasn't searching for forgiveness. She was just looking for a way out. Seeing the faint light of a cellphone down the hall, she didn't bother moving. The only light she had was coming from the light in the water that seemed to glow. She had smashed her cellphone in her own fury and rampage throughout her house where she broke most of her things but surprisingly had forced herself not to destroy any of Nolan's paintings. She loved them to much-probably as much as she loved the one who created them but she wouldn't admit it. She couldn't. She got pregnant with someone else's baby and he thought it was his. It wasn't. She knew it wasn't. Did he not think she'd get a paternity test? As the figure came closer, she looked up at him but the look on her face was off. Her eyes were fogged over and she seemed more like she was in a trance than if she cared whether the person before her was a criminal or not ready to slice her throat open. But her eyes landed on a pair of icy blues and she almost lit up, thinking Nolan had found her, but instead, he didn't have the same crook in his nose or the piercing. His hair was longer instead of shorter and he didn't have the laugh lines in the corners. It was Porter. "I didn't know you liked fish," she mumbled out at she looked at him before looking over at the fish again. She was supposed to disappear but she had a couple of delays along the way. First there was Nolan in all his beautiful artistic glory and then there was her mother, still pestering her about seducing her new husband so she could get a divorce and find a new man to screw with, "I'm sorry," she said quietly almost as if speaking was too much for her and she'd just get blown away by the wind, "I fucked everything up...I'm surprised you haven't written me off either." And he should have...at least in her opinion.

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[PORTER MIDDLETON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 600px; background: #e3e3e3; border: 2px dotted #ffffff;,true][cs=2]   I can't tell you what it really is I can only tell you what it feels like And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight High off of love drunk from my hate

[atrb=width,120] tag: sevvie words: 1061 notes: bromance ftw! credit: eliza @ sp

[atrb=width,250] although he should hate svetlana, he didn't. it was a bit of a mystery to him considering how very much the two had despised one another, but he honestly had no hard feelings toward her. he felt so much pain over what had happened with charlotte - how badly he had fucked things up with her - that he couldn't feel anything else. so instead of feeling hate toward svetlana, he felt a strange sort of kindred spirit in her. charlotte had walked away from her too, not just him. although svet had set up the plot for his downfall, it had caused her own, and he hadn't been wholly innocent either. he'd come on to her on the beach, so he took full responsibility for his actions in the recent incident. it wasn't svet's fault charlotte hated him, he'd put the nail in his own coffin on that one. he'd lied to her and told her he didn't love her and never had so she could move on. he'd broken her heart: one of his best abilities. touching the lock button on his phone and watching the backlight wink out, he slid the phone into his pocket and slowly glanced down the hallway in the darkened aquarium. he'd received two phone calls which explained his presence here at this time of night in a place he really didn't enjoy. he was sure some people liked watching fish swim around doing nothing all day, but porter was not one of those people. the first phone call he'd received had been from svetlana who claimed she had something important to tell him while sounding rather dazed on her voicemail. the second call had been from the aquarium staff who'd requested he hurry and extract his 'friend' since it was after hours and they could get in serious trouble for allowing her to be inside. stopping several yards away from her, he watched her silently in wonder as she seemed in some sort of strange fight with herself. she sat on the floor watching the fish with a mixture of awe and sickness. the few attendants who'd remained to watch their paying customer stood back by the entrance and far enough away that she was alone in the semi-darkness of the blue-lit corridor. "i didn't know you liked fish," she said, her voice mumbled and garbled compared to her typical clear tones. he sensed something was wrong with her, and it didn't seem that losing her best friend was her only problem. "that's because i don't," he replied shortly, stepping up to her side and looking down at her but not bothering to sit. he didn't say anything else but let the silence drag on. he didn't feel like doing much since charlotte had disappeared; he felt as if a hole was blown inside his chest and it was growing larger and larger every day. closing his eyes, he ground his teeth together and tried to push the pain away. he'd lost the only person he'd ever truly loved and it had all been his own fault. the pain and the guilt was almost too much for him to stand sometimes. "i'm sorry..." came svetlana's quiet apology, bringing him out of his painful daydreaming. "I fucked everything up...I'm surprised you haven't written me off either." smiling humorlessly, porter sighed and lowered himself to sit next to her. "if i wrote you off, i wouldn't have anyone to talk to either." he laid his arms out across his knees and stared straight ahead into the water for a moment. it was true. he had few guy friends because he'd been sent around the world for school and most of his friends were grown up and running corporations or married by now. married... he should have been married in six weeks... but now that wasn't going to happen. grinding his teeth together to shove away that growing frog in his throat, he cleared his throat and turned to look at svetlana. he was about to speak again when he really looked at her for the first time up close. she had horrible dark marks around her eyes like she hadn't slept in days, and she looked even thinner than she had a few days before at the engagement party. he knew a little about morning sickness, but she looked far worse than he imagined. she looked more like... suddenly, his hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, forcing her to twist her arm so he could see the inside of her elbow. sure enough there were scars there, some fresh and some already old, and her skin almost looked transparent in the blue light, very unlike her usual tan. he looked up at her with a harsh look in his blue eyes. when she'd told him she was pregnant, he knew neither of them wanted a child, so he hadn't truly be concerned about the baby. besides, she wasn't even showing so it wasn't really real to him. and now, although he should be worried for the child, he found himself worried about her. somehow, through all of the hell they'd put themselves through over the past week, porter found them becoming friends. who knew the world would ever come to this? he mused to himself. he knew then that whether or not the child lived, svetlana was the one he cared about. not like he cared about charlotte, he would never love another woman the way he loved her, but he saw a friend in svetlana, and he didn't want her to be hurt. so as he saw the scars of drug abuse on the inside of her arm, he felt an anger rise up in him akin to a savior complex. "what the fuck have you done to yourself?" he snapped, reaching up and placing his fingers on the top and bottom of her eye so he could pull her eye open wider to look at her dilated pupils. "you're high, damn it." suddenly, he realized how stupid he'd been: even dumber than he'd first thought. svetlana had begged him to help her disappear when she'd admitted she was pregnant, and he'd never imagined she may try to do that herself. "were you trying to kill yourself? did something happen to the baby? damn it, svet, you should have called me sooner."

[steph2]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/2vafwqd.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 400px; height: 500px;] CLICK FOR OUTFIT Svetlana suddenly found herself laughing at his outburst as if it were something comical, when it wasn't. He looked seriously worried but it didn't register in her head, "Been....been doing not done," she muttered out with a faint, false smile as she seemed to calm her own awkward laughter that had bounced off the walls, "I'm not trying to kill myself," she sighed as she leaned back against the pillar that was closest to her, letting her head lull to the side a bit as she looked at him, "The baby's dead," she smiled again and it almost seemed morbid, "but he thinks it's his...when it isn't...and I lo-" but she cut herself off from saying she loved him. No, she couldn't admit it. To anyone-not even herself, "He likes me better this way...I like me better this way," her voice was faint as she took in a deep breathe sharply and then let it out before looking over at the fish again. She couldn't remember calling Porter but she must have if he knew she was here, "It makes everything stop hurting," she said quietly as she let her eyes close, feeling the sleep and exhaustion wanting to burrow deep within her, "when he gave it to me two months ago....he made everything feel so much better...like everything was a dream..." she slumped over a bit so her head hit his broad shoulder. She was so tired but she couldn't will herself to sleep to the point of dreaming. She'd usually just pass out and wake up hours later, feeling like she'd only been sleeping for a few minutes, "Nolan," she mumbled quietly, barely a whisper as she leaned closer to Porter like he was Nolan and not Porter, just like that night on the beach, "Nolan." She felt her muscles starting to relax from how tensed they'd been before as she laid there against Porter, wishing his warmth was Nolan's; that he'd run his fingers through her hair and kiss her forehead, call her his Russian princess and remind her how much he cared about her...She never had anyone do that to her and it was so consuming, just those little details and things he did, that she couldn't bring herself to let it go. Her life used to always be one big, fabulous, luxurious party when she arrived in America. Now the party was starting to dwindle down and she was left there wishing it wasn't over yet. She wanted to blaring music, the heart wrenching beats, the feeling of being alive-something she'd been chasing for years through abuse of her mother's pills. But that had been nothing. She used to only use them at parties-not to keep herself going through out the day. She knew how to stop with them, could easily cut herself off. It didn't interfere with her daily functions. Now, the heroin...it took her over to the point where if she didn't have it, she became nasty and rude, moody and easily jealous. She would get angry and bitter and would want nothing to do with anyone until she got that hit-then everything was okay again. She could drive, she could walk, she could breathe. But when she was coming down from it, this was how she ended up: feeling and looking like a zombie. But she had to tell Porter something didn't she? At the moment, though, she couldn't exactly remember what it was or who it was even about.

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[PORTER MIDDLETON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 600px; background: #e3e3e3; border: 2px dotted #ffffff;,true][cs=2]   I can't tell you what it really is I can only tell you what it feels like And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight High off of love drunk from my hate

[atrb=width,120] tag: sevvie words: too short to admit xD notes: sorry that was so crappily short x| credit: eliza @ sp

[atrb=width,250] porter went numb when she nonchalantly told him the baby was dead. he was ashamed that relief was not the fewest among the emotions he felt, but he also felt sad. although he hadn't wanted a child, the thought that it hadn't even had a chance to live, and because of this addiction svet obviously had created for herself, made him sad. he was turning into a softie. his grip on her arm loosened as he sat numbly staring at her wondering what the hell was going on. "the baby's dead..." when his grip loosened, svetlana slumped away from him, mumbling something about some guy. at first he thought she meant him, but she soon began muttering the name nolan as she leaned over on his shoulder and stared almost sightlessly up at him with her brown eyes. closing his eyes and shaking his head angrily, porter shifted his position, slid his arms beneath her emaciated frame, and lifted her from the floor as she continued rambling about this mystery man. porter had never told anyone, but he'd found his mother in a drug-induced state once when he'd been a younger man. he'd always been closer to this mother than his father, and he'd known probably better than any of his siblings just how unhappy their parents' relationship was. his mother had been trying to kill herself, but she hadn't succeeded. porter had shown up just in time. ignoring the attendants as he carried svetlana out of the aquarium, he listened as she rambled on about this nolan. so that must be the bastard who'd gotten her hooked on drugs. she had herself fooled into puppy love with him apparently. it was probably some drug-induced infatuation. everything and everyone looked better when you were high. "why did you even call me, svet?" he asked her, not expecting an answer although he wouldn't have minded one. he carried her out of the front entrance of the aquarium and stood holding her while he glanced back and forth for the car which had brought him here. he'd sent them for a drive around the block while he'd gone inside.

[steph2]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/2vafwqd.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 400px; height: 500px;] CLICK FOR OUTFIT Feeling him pick her up, she leaned closer to him, her frail hand gripping his shirt a bit as if slightly fearful he would drop her though she knew if she fell, she wouldn't feel any of it. He was asking her something and she strained her ears to listen, "Oh," she mumbled against his chest. It was then that she remembered. "Paris," she let out some air she hadn't realized she'd been holding in, "If Charlotte went anywhere, it was Paris." She knew Charlotte all too well and the perfect place for her to go would be Paris. Retail therapy, foreign country, foreign men, the French culture. Of course, it was Charlotte. Paris was like the number one spot in her getaway plan and if anyone asked how Svetlana knew...well, she just did. She didn't need to track down her best friend to figure out where she was. "You have to go and tell her you love her," she looked up at him a bit, "Tell her over and over even if she says she doesn't believe you," she let a faint smile grow on her face, "because we both know that's a load of bullshit," she chuckled wearily, "even if I'm not in her life anymore-you need to be...for both your sake's," she saw the headlights of a car as it pulled up toward them, "If you don't, I'll hire someone to kick your ass thoroughly..." she was serious, despite her voice coming out faint, "you should know by now that when a girl walks away, it's to see who will follow." That was actually something her mother had told her when she was little and asked why she wasn't with her father. Svetlana still thinks, to this day, that he was the one for her mother but she'd been foolish in letting him go and he'd been too stubborn and prideful to go after her. But that was the fairytale she came up with in her head. She never met her father-he could have just been dead like she wanted to be.

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[PORTER MIDDLETON]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 600px; background: #e3e3e3; border: 2px dotted #ffffff;,true][cs=2]   I can't tell you what it really is I can only tell you what it feels like And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight High off of love drunk from my hate

[atrb=width,120] tag: sevvie words: 511 notes: he's gonna hurt her if she hurts herself while he's in paris lol credit: eliza @ sp

[atrb=width,250] svet began speaking, and her voice was so weak and faint he could barely hear her. thankfully, it was late enough that nothing in this district of town was open, and it was relatively quiet on the street. he was dismayed by how light she was as he stood holding her as they waited for the car to arrive. she had grown so thin in such a short expanse of time. he wondered if she'd eaten anything at all or only taken the heroine over the past several weeks. the baby had never had a chance. he felt far more relief to know that than he should. he couldn't have accepted the responsibility if the child had lived, and somehow this turn of events settled his conscience. If Charlotte went anywhere, it was Paris. that made sense to him. he'd seen her photographs of paris with reese and her mother and svetlana. he'd seen the paintings of the eiffel tower she had in her bedroom. paris. he could easily get there, and svet was right. he had to follow her. he'd broken her heart on purpose, but now that the engagement was over, there was nothing to stop him from proposing to her again: this time because he wanted to. not because anyone was forcing them to be together but because they loved each other. that was if she still loved him... he would have to prove to her beyond a doubt that he loved and adored her. he'd never loved anyone before, and he knew he couldn't lose his one chance. he didn't deserve her, and he never would, but he was too selfish to let her walk away forever. porter chuckled as svet said she would hire someone to kick his ass if he didn't follow charlotte. "you don't have to worry about that," he confirmed, noticing the car rounding the corner. you should know by now that when a girl walks away, it's to see who will follow. he remembered charlotte's words when she'd whispered in his ear before she'd disappeared, If you want me, you’ll have to find me. well, now he knew where to find her. the car slowed and the driver jumped out, opening the rear door for him. carefully, he laid svetlana out on the backseat and then nodded to the driver, handing him an extra twenty. "take her where ever she wants except to anywhere with some guy named nolan." turning to svet where she was laying on the seat, he smiled slightly at her. "bertrand is going to take you back to your house. don't get yourself into any more trouble or i'll order him to tie you down to the floor and force feed you. don't try me." he pointed a finger at her. "i'll be back in a few weeks, hopefully with charlotte. take care of yourself until then. i want you to be alive to be in the wedding." smiling, he shut the door and waved the car off down the road. he had a plane to catch.