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Post by graeson on Dec 6, 2011 17:38:03 GMT -5
He knew he was in for a long day, but that was fine with him. Neither of them had to work this afternoon or this evening, and Graeson was lucky enough to get tomorrow morning off as well. He had to say that he was looking forward to it even if it meant his paycheck was going to be slimmer than normal. He'd swing it just to have a couple of days to himself. Especially after last night. His head still felt like someone was continuously pounding on it and he figured that maybe some more sleep would do him some good as well. But she was the more important one in this equation. Sighing softly to himself, he settled into the bed with her, closing his own eyes and holding her close to him. Throughout the day, he endured her night terrors, or rather, day terrors. He held her close and comforted her each and every time, and when she needed him to, he held her tighter. He wasn't going to let her go no matter what she did to him. He had known that he was getting himself into a fight because of her warnings, but that didn't change how he felt. He wouldn't throw her away just because she was a little broken. He'd fix her. Piece by piece, no matter how long that it took him. He would show her that somehow, some way, everything was going to be just fine. He was here for her now.
Closing his eyes, he drifted off when she had one of her quiet moments and he slept better than he usually did because she was right here beside him. Making sure he didn't hold her too tightly, he made himself more comfortable and made sure that she was alright as well. Content at the moment, he drifted into an easy sleep, paying attention to her even though he drifted. He felt her move every time beside him so his sleep wasn't as good as he wanted it to be but he didn't mind. He needed to pay attention to her. Pulling the covers up over them again as she kicked them off from all of her movements, Dylan sighed and turned to rest on his side. She was sleeping at the moment, and rather peacefully so. He let his hand travel closer and closer to her face, not really believing that she was here beside him. She had stayed. She had complained about him carrying her but she still stayed. That had to mean something, right? That had to be a positive. It just had to be. His fingertips softly brushed her forehead as he gently pushed some of her hair out of her face as she slept. Dylan's eyes softened as he studied her, unable to help himself. He could be as greedy as he wanted to be now, and he drank her in, memorizing her features and her expression. She was beautiful and always had been. Even with her glasses and her braces. He had missed that before and he hated himself for it. It was all superficial to him, what he had wanted in his early years. He couldn't begin to even explain how much he wanted to take it all back.
Shaking those thoughts from his mind, he was suddenly aware of her stirring beside him. Loosening his grip in case she freaked out from being held if she was having a rather frightening dream, he looked down at her, ready to comfort her once more. Her sharp breath hurt his own chest as she sat up, but what really hurt him was the punch he received. Now, Dylan could take a hit. However, this hungover Dylan was caught unaware from that and she packed quite the punch. Gasping as she knocked the wind out of him, he grabbed his aching chest and inched away from her, seeing the terror and confusion in her face. "D-Devon." He coughed out, wheezing in pain as he struggled to find his breath again. She had just hit him like a ton of bricks and he wasn't handling it well. He struggled off of the bed as she said come out with your hands up, not knowing where this was going. However, when she went to her purse and there was suddenly a handgun trained on him, he paled. This was not good. Looking around at his surroundings, her tried to figure out where he could dive for cover but he figured quick movements would just agitate her more. So instead, he was like a sitting duck. Holding up his hands in surrender, he spoke, his voice as soothing as it could be. "Devon. Leslie. Les, baby, it's me. You're ok. You're in my house. Dylan's house. You're safe. Everything is alright." He said quietly, looking into her hazy eyes. This wasn't going to be good at all. And then it happened. She pulled the trigger and the bang scared the living hell out of him. Wincing, he looked down to where he felt a stinging sensation across his side. She had missed. Somehow, she had missed. But that bullet had grazed his side, and as he pulled up his shirt, he saw the angry red mark it had left in its path.
Worry filled him, but was comforted by the fact that the wall was solid concrete behind him and she had shot from the other side of the room. The bullet wouldn't have gone through the concrete beneath the plaster and the wall materials. Thank goodness. His heart beat was beating out of his throat, but he still didn't take his eyes off of Leslie. He still held his hands up in surrender, praying that she'd wake up. Or realize that she was awake. His life was in her hands and he didn't know what to do to help her. "Leslie?" His voice was still calm. That was Dylan though. He was always calm in intense situations, no matter if his life was at stake or if it was his friend's or partner's. he always kept his head and he was counting on that now. "Can you do me a favor Les? Can you put the gun down? You don't need it here. I promise you."
 TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 1192
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0[/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Dec 6, 2011 18:07:20 GMT -5
 WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS CLICK FOR OUTFIT
She saw the outlining concrete of the building she was in and the man who was injured with the rifle. She was looking right at the man and she could see the hatred toward her in his eyes. She had shot him once, she could do it again. She wasn't afraid. What? Because she was a woman she couldn't do anything? What a load of bull shit. When he spoke, she didn't want to hear his voice but she was shaking before she pulled the trigger, seeing him drag out...Dylan? It was why, as she pulled the trigger, she moved her hand a fraction to the right and it missed him. But the sound blasted through her ears and she blinked a few times, her muscles were still tensed as she looked at him a bit more clearly this time around. He was saying something about putting the gun down and she let it drop to the floor with a clatter. Her blue eyes were wide as she looked at him and she started backing away as she saw the blood on his side, "Oh fuck..." she said quietly, backing up toward the door and shaking her head, "I have to go...I shouldn't be here...This isn't right," and with that she practically bolted for the door, fumbling a bit with the lock and shaking at what she'd just done. As she felt his arms around her, she struggling a bit in vain against him, frustration and desperation getting the better of her as her hair fell to cover her face, "I can't do this! I can't do this...I'm going to end up klilling someone someday," she was rambling and she was shaking so bad from the shock of what she'd just done, she couldn't even open the damn door. Eventually she gave up and stood there with her head against the door. She didn't want him looking at her, "I just shot the only person who means anything to me," she mumbled to herself. She could have killed him, Dylan. She was frustratingly in love with him and yet she almost killed him thinking he was the enemy holding him hostage. "I'm sorry..." she said a bit louder, feeling the knot in her throat and her eyes starting to water but she didn't cry. She didn't want to cry and make herself look worse than she already did, "I'm so sorry,," she kept saying over and over as if it would somehow mend the wound she'd made on him. It was like a bad scratch and yet she was freaking out over it. If she hadn't moved in time, she would have shot him in the ribs right before his heart. He could have been dead...and she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did. She was too terrified to turn around, "God! I could have killed you!" she was mentally scolding herself and she knew form now on she would only sleep alone at her house. One time, she had woken up in the middle of the night, grabbed a knife, and threw it at a picture frame in her living room because her gun wasn't handy. She should be locked away in a loony bin and it was why she really didn't want to go to the doctors. Once they evaluated her psychologically, they would discharge her dishonorably. She wouldn't be able to continue fighting. As much as it traumatized her to go overseas, as many times as people died on her watch, seeing the faces of people she had helped, if only bringing them fresh water or even saving a three legged dog who had gotten hit by a landmine...That was enough to keep her happy. It tended to outweigh all the bad by just enough to keep Leslie satisfied. But she wouldn't be able to...not with her mind as unstable as it was becoming. COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART template by eliza @ shadowplay |
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Post by graeson on Dec 6, 2011 18:42:35 GMT -5
He could see the blood through his white tee shirt as he stood checking himself out. The wound was superficial and he knew that it was nothing to worry about. It was bleeding now, but it would stop and he honestly could care less. Ignoring the stinging sensation, his bright blue eyes turned up to look at Leslie now, worry flying through his every being. He needed to help her but she needed to put the gun down first. He loved this girl, but he didn't know what she would do with that gun and he was terrified she would hurt herself. He could care less about what she would do to him because honestly that wasn't important. She just needed to keep herself safe. She seemed to come to after the gun went off. Studying her now, he waited for baited breath, wincing as the gun dropped the floor dangerously. Not that there were safety's on hand pistols anyway, but that still bothered him. One never knew if it could go off, but he didn't judge her for that. He would never judge her. She was terrified. Shell shocked. And now he saw the extent of her post traumatic stress disorder. They both had problems that they needed to fix. Well, Dylan didn't see why they couldn't fix them together. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he took a step towards her. And then she was speaking, freaking herself out. "Devon, no! Wait!" She shouldn't be leaving in the state that she was in. He wouldn't let her.
Dashing after her, he crossed his room in three huge strides. Dylan was known for his speed in the force and the other cops were always happy when he was there for a foot chase. He really was quick and that was helpful to him now. He rushed after Devon and saw her fumbling with the locks on his door. In another instant he had his arms tightly around her, encircling her close in his arms and refusing to let her go even as she struggled. "Shh, Leslie. You're safe. I'm right here. It's alright." He comforted her, hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her body trembling against his. Furrowing his brow in worry, he made sure she couldn't escape his grasp until she started to relax. And gradually she did. Her felt her tense body slowly soften, and he closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as she did. "You didn't shoot me Leslie. I'm fine. I'm right here." He told her quietly, trying to get her to look at him but she wouldn't. Alright, she wasn't ready to face him yet. He could understand that. He wouldn't push her, and he just stood there now, her back to him, embracing her to let her know that someone was actually here for her. However, her words had just pulled at his heart. She had just shot the only person that ever meant something to her. Who means anything to her. That was saying a lot, and Dylan couldn't believe that she had said it. He loved her. He knew it now. He loved Leslie Devon and he needed her. He had always needed her and could admit it now. Now she needed him. And he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He owed her that, but above all, he wanted to do that for her now.
As she kept apologizing to him over and over and over again, he kept shushing her gently, trying to get her to calm down. He wanted her to stop shaking, he wanted her to look at him. They would get through this together. He was never going to let her fall. Sighing to himself as she apologized yet again, Dylan figured she had had enough time. Turning her in his strong arms, he gently lifted his hand to her chin, making her look up at him. She needed to hear what he had to say. "The important thing is that you didn't. That's what you have to focus on. I'm fine and I'm not leaving. I haven't gone anywhere, I haven't left you because I don't to. Let me in Leslie, let me in. I'm here to help you but you have to want it. I care about you. So much. It hurts me so much to see you like this so please, please let me help you. I want to be here for you. I am here for you. You're not alone anymore, and it's ok to be afraid. I won't let you fall." He told her in a whisper, looking at her with his genuine, honest, concern filled eyes. He wasn't angry. He was upset. But not that she had shot at him. He was upset because she was upset and she wasn't letting him help her. He wanted to help her. He needed to help her. He only prayed that she would finally let go of herself and let someone in. He wanted to be that one she let in.
TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 992
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0 [/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Dec 6, 2011 19:47:46 GMT -5
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS CLICK FOR OUTFIT
As she was turned around, she kept her face down until he forced her to look at him. As he spoke, all his words hit her hard against her chest, probably as hard as she'd punched him before. She remained completely quiet after that, just looking up at him with wavering eyes. No one ever said those things to her ever and it surprised her, shockingly enough, that he wanted to be that person. Then, as if it came naturally, she leaned in, first brushing her lips against his before diving in for a deep kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer to her. She didn't want to let go, not for a second, of him in case this was all a dream and she would wake up back at base in Los Angeles or at home or even next to the Greek guy from the bar who's number she'd given. Devon didn't pull away as she let go of all the longing that had built up within her over the years and she slipped off his shirt that she was wearing before slipping off his own, running her fingers down his sides as she did. This had been what she'd always wanted, hadn't it? And hadn't she gone through enough-that she deserved to at least get what she wanted? Pushing him back a bit toward wherever and somehow they landed on the couch. Off came her already barely there panties and she hadn't worn a bra with her dress so she was down to her birthday suit in less than a fraction of a second and made sure he was just the same. She wanted so badly to do this...and it would take her mind off of what had just happened and put it somewhere filled with ecstasy among other things. Looking up at him from her position on the couch, her long legs were loosely wrapped around his waist, careful of his wound and her own on her shoulder. They were both pretty beat up weren't they? Tragic songs set to replay in sync but wanted to skip to the next one which would be happier and filled with more sunshine and radiance. Devon's eyes locked onto his as she looked up at him while they caught their breathe from how heated it had suddenly gotten in those few minutes of just straight kissing. Her fingers traced the outline of his jaw and his lips how they rose, dip, then fell again, her eyes following the light movement of her slender fingers. She felt ridiculously thinner and smaller underneath him, her abdomen hard yet a bit concave considering last time this happened, she was a lot fully, "Pinky promise?" she practically whispered it a bit out of breathe as she held up her small pinky for him to take. Promise to never leave her as she would never leave him, to not kick her out, to get through their issues together. It was all implied with her tiny pinky held up to him. She was giving him everything again just by laying underneath him as bare as the day she was born only this time, she wanted him to give her everything in return. She didn't want to be the one left behind again. Maybe now he understood what she meant the other night when she said they both just handled their issues differently. They were both alone, lonely, and struggling with things one could argue they needed professional health with but they had each other, right? That was professional enough: best friends. Who knew you better than your best friend? Not your parents or your siblings-your best friend. You told them things no one else was supposed to know about, confided in them your deepest secrets, adored them and wished they were your family, hated them at times but the love was always there. Sometimes best friends made the best couples...sometimes they didn't. It was worth the risk with Dylan because though many would say it wouldn't ever work out between them, well, that was the point of risks right? What if it didn't work out? Ah...but what if it did? COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART template by eliza @ shadowplay |
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Post by graeson on Dec 6, 2011 22:03:34 GMT -5
Dylan's blue eyes studied her as she stood, still turned away from him for a little while. When she was ready she'd look at him, or so he thought. But when it became clear that she wouldn't, he decided to do something about it. They both needed to face their fears and face their problems. Enough was enough. They could help one another through what they were going through. He knew that. Now he just needed to help her see that and believe it at the same time. He was about to open his mouth to reassure her some more because he could see her conflicting emotions. However, she surprised him more than he could ever surprise her. As she leaned closer to him, Dylan's eyes searched hers with questions. Was she serious? Did she really want to do this? The ball as in her court this time. Dylan wasn't going to lead this show because he wanted it to be all of her. He wanted to know that she wanted this. He wanted to know that she wanted all of this and that he wasn't pressuring her into anything. Waiting with bated breath, he suddenly felt her soft lips brush hers and he felt as if an electric shock traveled the length of his spin. Shuddering at that slight touch, his skin raised with goosebumps and the chills didn't cease as she deepened the passionate kiss.
He returned her fire and her hurt with his own. They were both hurting. They could both heal the other. Closing his eyes, he responded willingly to her, moving where she wanted him to move and doing what she wanted him to do. As she removed her own shirt, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering. She was different. Way different, but it was the scars that he noticed first when he broke away from her. She had been through so much and it bothered him more than he thought it would. She was alone when she went through all of that. That much he knew and that much he regretted. He could have written to her. He had the base address. Pain and torment filled his eyes as she moved to take his own shirt off, and he lifted his arms willingly. The blood from the wound she had just inflicted upon him was still flowing, but it was nothing serious. The shirt wiped it up easily enough, and he knew that it would heal just fine. However, his torso was covered with scars from the car accident that he had gone through. What most people seemed to forget about that accident was that Graeson was in it as well. They never forgot the fact that he was driving, but they certainly forgot that he was hospitalized for three weeks afterwards because they had almost lost him as well. He didn't know if he wanted to tell her that he had coded twice. It wasn't like it mattered now, but it was still a frightening experience for him. And waking up in the hospital alone, knowing what he had done was enough to send him over the edge. He cried himself to sleep more nights than he didn't when he was in that hospital. He never felt as weak as he did than those three weeks. And it was why he succumbed so easily to alcohol. He was a weak man.
But those thoughts drifted from his mind as she steered him backwards and to the sofa. She turned them so that he was above her, and the small smile that lit his face when she offered her pinky to him was enough to let her know how he really felt. This wasn't just another notch on his belt. This was real. It was real for the first time ever. This was a girl that he held real feelings for. He wanted, needed to know that she honestly wanted this though. His large pinky came up to entwine with hers, and he nodded. "Pinky swear. But Devon..tell me what you want. Is this what you want?" He questioned her in a whisper, looking imploringly into her eyes. Sure, she had led the show until now but that didn't mean a thing. This was how she would know he was sincere. He was giving her the choice. He was giving her the choice to walk away if she so chose. He was making sure she knew that she didn't have to do this. She had nothing to prove to him because he loved her already. She didn't need to give him anything because she had already given everything to him. So he wanted her to know that she didn't have to do this because she felt pressured, or felt that she needed to do this. The worry and concern filled his face as he perched above her, his breathing heavy and thick. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was certain that she could hear it. She had done things to him..with her simple touches and her passionate kisses. And he wanted to let it all go. He wanted to let go of his pain and his suffering and he knew that she could help. This was meant to be. He knew that after all of this time now.
TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 1018
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0 [/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Dec 7, 2011 16:34:18 GMT -5
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS CLICK FOR OUTFIT
Devon looked up at him and tried to make herself look completely sure of herself because, though she was, there would always be that tiny percentage of doubt nagging her in the back of her head. Anyone would have such doubts, though, after having their first sexual experience being like her own. She let a small, satisfied grin fall on her full lips as their pinkies connected and he asked her if she was sure that what they were about to do was what she really wanted. Hell, he might have been asking her in general if that was what she wanted. A million times over, she would answer yes!!! at the top of her lungs. Wasn’t he was she always wanted? Their names were always mentioned together: Devon and Dylan, Graeson and Leslie. They used to be attached at the hip, always being at each other’s places playing video games or going to the bar to watch a game with the guys. At one point, she practically became his wingman to pick up chicks. She helped him get women when, at the time not caring about the consequences, she wanted to be one of them. The first and only time she’d gotten truly hit on by a guy and it wasn’t a joke was last night at the club and it turned into a disaster. But she’d given him her number, hadn’t she? Had she been subconsciously trying to replace Graeson? At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised by such a notion. If he called her, however, she would just tell him it wouldn’t work out. It wouldn’t because she was in love with someone else and she was just looking for someone to cure the loneliness and make her feel like she wasn’t just a fly on the wall anymore. She’d always been “one of the guys” and for once she didn’t want to be. She wanted to be a girl…no, a woman. Not like she should be-but because she wanted to be and she didn’t need a bunch of female friends in the female gender category in order to do so. All she needed was to freakin’ get hit on and it somehow worked. Looking up at Graeson, though, she could remember how easily that night they’d been laughing and stumbling back to his place. She could remember how he picked her up bridal style to cross the threshold and he accidentally hit her head on the way in which left them laughing hysterically. She could even remember how she wore a loose fitted t shirt, a sports bra underneath, and loose fitted jeans and her messy chuck taylors. She practically looked like a dyke while he looked so polished even while talking nonsense. Somewhere along the way to his bedroom, they had lost all of their clothing in the midst of all the kissing and then she was on the bed, the two in the same position they were in now. They had slowed down a bit and she looked up at him just like she was right at that moment on the couch. Their giggling has finally died down and it was like they had suddenly become serious. He took off her glasses right before their bodies meshed together. Now, she didn’t have those black framed glasses that got her labeled four eyes all through high school. She didn’t have the silver and clear braces in her mouth to make her teeth as perfectly aligned as they were now. She didn’t have the slight baby fat on her cheeks or her stomach that made her look so much younger. She was lighter, pretty, almost a clone, as some would say, of all the women he used to hit on. She let her friends back at base turn her into this not because she wanted to…but because in the back of her mind, she knew the day she saw him again, she could rub it in his face that she had become so magnificent physically, he would regret everything he’d put her through that one morning. She’d been so ashamed, for the first time, of how she looked…and now here she was, five years later, looking exactly how she was supposed to look and wondering, on occasion, if that was the true reason why he wanted her now. She looked acceptable on his arm now and not like something the cat dragged in. But was she sure about this? Somehow…yeah. She was, “It’s always been you,” she said quietly, running her fingers gingerly through his hair, “So yeah…I’m more than sure,” and with that, she pulled him into her so their bodies could mesh like they did the first time so one couldn’t tell where one body began and the other one ended. The difference? He wouldn’t kick her out when they were done-if they ever finished. COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART template by eliza @ shadowplay |
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Post by graeson on Dec 9, 2011 9:44:37 GMT -5
He looked at her now, wondering what she was thinking. He wished that he could understand what went on in that mind of hers but it was difficult. She was so intelligent, and definitely not the kind of woman he was used to. The women he was used to were with him for one thing and one thing only. They wanted the sex, and Dylan was good at it. He gave them what they wanted each and every time and that was how he had gained his reputation. He had been the fix that they had needed at the time, and for Dylan that had become harder and harder. He could never be serious with them because there was no attraction. Sure, they had all been drop dead gorgeous, but as he thought about it something had always been in the back of his mind. Or rather, someone had always been in the back of his mind. And that someone was Leslie Devon. Ever since that night that they had spent together, Graeson couldn't get her out of his mind. He had taken her purity and then had thrown her away like a piece of garbage. She had given him all of her and how did he repay her? He made her hurt. That wasn't who he wanted to be any more. He didn't want to have the reputation as a player, or a tool. He didn't want to be the womanizer that every drunk or horny woman came to.
It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't fair to them. What he wanted now was this lovely woman below him. The position that they were in now sent him spinning back to the night when they had graduated the academy. He realized now that he had been truly happy even if he was drunker than drunk. He had celebrated an accomplishment with his best friend. It didn't get better than that. He had become something other than just a failure that day. He could rub his graduation in his father's face and that was exactly what he had wanted. He had made something of himself when his family had dropped him, thinking he'd be nothing. Now he was a good cop. Not morally anymore, but he did his job. He needed to change and he prayed that Leslie would change that. He needed to tell her that he didn't like being a cop anymore. If anyone would understand it would be her. If anyone could talk him off the ledge, it would be her. Taking a deep breath now, he exhaled slowly and then looked into her bright eyes. Her words filled his heart with joy, and there was something in her look that told him that this was indeed exactly what she wanted. The doubt and the hesitation that he had seen when they had first ended up in this situation had scared him. He was terrified that she was doing this just to do it at first. Wouldn't that be like a smack in the face?
If she was doing this just to get back at him? For a moment doubt crossed his own eyes and his own mind. It couldn't be, right? Inhaling sharply at that thought, he knew that this was what he wanted. The sincerity in the words that she had just spoken bolstered his confidence and he focused back on her. He loved this girl. He was in love with this girl and he knew that was why he had chased her off so long ago. He had cuddled with her after the sex and that wasn't what Graeson Dylan did. He used you for sex and then wouldn't allow you to spend the night. That was how you got unnecessarily attached. However, he had already been attached to Devon when they had slept together. And that night had been different from all of the other nights he had spent with all of those other women. He had really looked at her before they had done anything. After their passionate kissing that had led to their clothes to be removed and for him to lay her down on his bed beneath him, their eyes had met. And in that moment he saw but he refused to believe. He had refused himself happiness because he didn't deserve it. She had terrified him and it had been obvious. Shaking his head now to clear those thoughts from his mind, he leaned down to gently kiss her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. They were soft kisses. Kisses that only proved his affection and devotion for this young woman.
And in that moment he became one with her. He went with her willingly and openly, wanting this because he knew that it was right. They didn't finish for some time. They learned one another all over again and this time it meant so much more because they were both sober. Graeson himself was seeing clearly for the first time in years since his alcohol problem started. She was already changing him. And when they were finally finished, Graeson didn't leave. He didn't kick her out. Instead, he wrapped a blanket around them that had been resting on the back of the couch and held her close. His eyes looked down at her as he laid with her now, his smile growing as he studied her face. She had always been beautiful. Even with the braces and the glasses. Sighing in contentment, he leaned forward, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. His lips met her in a gentle, loving kiss, and as he pulled away, he smiled once more. "It's always been you. I've wanted no one else since you left. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He spoke honestly, his eyes softening and filling with the pain from the memories of what he had done. He just wanted things to be better for them both now. She deserved to be happy.
TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 1136
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0 [/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Dec 9, 2011 21:45:03 GMT -5
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS CLICK FOR OUTFIT
The entire experience had been more than just a roller coaster of ecstasy filled utopia. It was more than their soft and pleasurable moans, the way they whispered each other's name out of breathe, the way her nails dug into his back, how they would be rough one minute yet slow the next, the nipping and biting, sucking and thrusting, the way they laughed when it got awkward. It was more than all of that because every single movement, every bead of sweat, was just another sign to prove how much they really did mean to each other-how much they trusted each other to come together as one. By the time they were finally done (though they had finished a couple times already...), it was about evening and she had missed an entire day of running her errands and it was actually nice to stop for a bit instead of constantly be going to and from places. Her phone had been vibrating off the hook but she had ignored it, not wanting to destroy the fragility of the entire setting they were in. Now, she lay on her side facing him, her one leg wrapped around his own so their bodies were firmly pressed against each other. As the blanket was draped on top of their forms, and let out a more than satisfied sigh, her chest still moving up and down a bit from catching her breathe, "I forgave you years ago," she admitted. She had. It would have been nice to hear an apology from him back then but she thought she would never see him again, "You know," she tried to hold back a smile, "I originally let the girls over at the base give me this ridiculous makeover so if I ever saw you again, I could rub it in your face," it sounded so silly and immature, very much so like something the previous Leslie Devon would have done. But it obviously hadn't worked according to plan, "But after the eye surgery, I gave up," she laughed a bit at this, "I was practically blind for three days and then when I got my braces off, I couldn't speak right for a good month so I was mute," she was laughing at how stupid she'd been for going to such drastic measures to change her appearance, "And you know what? It took me a full year to learn how to walk in heels. Those things should be weapons," she had gone through a lot to look the way she did now, "and I haven't had anything awesome to eat since before bootcamp."The diet was probably the worst thing that Devon put herself through. Her friends who were toned and beautiful themselves, said they had to go through it as well but the end results were flawless and it was true, Devon liked the end results. She liked the lack of baby fat basically all over her body. She liked that she had toned muscles and a slightly concave stomach. She liked that she'd grown into her curves and she had eventually learned to like the lean, mean, healthy greens she would once force herself to consume and still did. She hadn't had a burger since boot camp and hadn't had a slice of pizza since graduating boot camp. But despite all of it, when it came to boot camp, the only thing she truly hated was not having anyone there when she graduated. She didn't have any family left and if she did, she didn't know them. While everyone had gone off to have dinner with their family and friends, she was sitting with all the other sergeants playing cards and having pizza and beer. It hadn't been a bad thing, but she had wished her father was there. He would have been more than proud of her for her accomplishments. "It took the ugly duckling more than wishful thinking to become a swan," and she believed that whole heartedly that people weren't always just born beautiful. They had to work for it, work for the recognition. Her original motivator had been Graeson, which became painfully obvious, but in the end, it became herself. She pushed herself to go through everything because she suddenly wanted to accept herself more instead of just feeling strange about her appearance. COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART template by eliza @ shadowplay |
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Post by graeson on Dec 12, 2011 9:53:33 GMT -5
Graeson lost himself in the moment with her, gladly and willingly handing himself over to her. She had complete control of him now and of everything that he did. His heart was in her hands and while that scared him, it was also a rush. The fact that she could break the fragile thing he now gave her was something that he wasn't so sure about, but it was something that he wanted her to have. He wanted her to know that he would be loyal to her and only her. Gone were his days of sleeping around just to feel something. He felt everything while he was with her. Every touch, every kiss, and every word. As they made love, Graeson's heart was filled with an emotion that he fought to recognize. It was love mingled with happiness and those two feelings were as foreign to him as another language was. He didn't know how to use them or how to work with them but he was trying. He hadn't been loved throughout his entire life. This was strange and he was trying to cope with the overload of emotions that were struggling to free themselves from the dark place he had forced them in. His heart exploded with love now as they came together as one.
When they had finally finished, Graeson cuddled with her. He broke his own rule. His own rule that said there was never, ever be any cuddling because then that meant there was more than just the sex. This time, there was more than just the sex. He know this looked bad. It looked like he only slept with her now because she was good looking. He knew that she doubted him. She might not show it, but he knew. Who wouldn't doubt him after the way that he treated her? Looking into her eyes now, he prayed and willed for her to understand that this wasn't about her looks to him. Not anymore. Sure, she was gorgeous, but she always had been. He was just too shallow to ever notice that. She was the one who had always been there for him and now, to him, that was beautiful. She had supported him through ever bad decision, through every failure, and through every thing that he had needed to get off of his chest. Graeson was here for her now and her alone. He wanted to be her shoulder to lean on, to cry on for support. He wanted to be the one that she went to when she needed to talk about something, anything. And above all else, he wanted to be the one to protect her while she was sleeping from the nightmares that no doubt constantly plagued her. He wanted to be the one that was there for her instead of it being the other way around. He would deal with his alcoholism and his other problems. He wouldn't put his issues on her shoulders when she had so many problems herself. Enough was enough. It wasn't about him anymore. It was about her. It was about them now.
Sighing softly, he listened to her words as she spoke, his hand finding hers and playing with her fingers. As she spoke, he gently kissed her forehead, knowing that what she went through was hard and wishing that he was there for it all. Even if he had sent letters it would have been easier for her. "You had every right to want to rub it in my face. I was an idiot. And an ass. I don't blame you." He admitted with an easy shrug of his shoulders. Cuddling her up against him now, he held her tightly, as if he was going to lose her at any given moment. The blanket cured his chills, but her warmth cured the ice in his heart. This was good. This was a step in the right direction. He just knew it. While she explained what she went through to become what she was now, a sadness crossed his handsome features and he looked at her now, as if really, truly seeing her. "Please tell me you did those things for yourself Devon. Please tell me you didn't put yourself through all of that because of me or anyone else." He said worriedly, praying that she didn't go through all of that pain just to get back at him. He wanted her to go through it for her. Sighing once more in slight frustration, he shook his head but stayed with her. He wasn't ever going to push her away intentionally again. When she spoke her last statement, he looked down at her, his gaze instantly softening. "You were always my swan. It just took me far too long to notice that." He said in a whispered voice, his lips finding and meeting hers once more in a passionate kiss.
TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 946
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0 [/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Dec 13, 2011 12:15:58 GMT -5
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE RUNNING ROUND LEAVING SCARS CLICK FOR OUTFIT
"For me," she said softly, in reply to who she did it for, "I came to realize I wanted to do it for myself-make myself feel better in the long run," it wasn't a lie. It was true she at first did it for Graeson but eventually, as the process became more and more gruesome, she realized the driving force behind wanting that make over was herself. She wanted to be able to look in the mirror and be confident in her own appearance, feel good in her own skin. She grinned into their kiss, moving so she was on top of him and straddling him before she pulled away but brushed her lips against his before sitting up and looking down at him, her dark blonde hair falling like a slight curtain around her, "Have you ever done it in the back of a police cruiser?" she smiled playfully. They could definitely get away with that, right? It wouldn't really be that difficult. Park somewhere since they worked the night shifts usually anyway, and then just go at it...in the back seat. Since she had never been in the backseat of a police cruiser in her life and it was like a challenge. But as Devon sat on top of him, she felt a tug on her shoulder and then felt something slipping down her back. Eyebrows coming together a bit, she attempted to look over her shoulder and she scrunched up her nose, "You don't have any medical wire, do you?" it came out more as a statement that a question. Somewhere in their adventures under the covers, she must have pulled some her her makeshift stitches loose. Slipping off of him, she went over and grabbed a clean kitchen rag and held it to her shoulder. It didn't bother her as much as she expected-probably because she'd been so heavily distracted for the past couple of hours. And her phone was still vibrating uncontrollably on the counter. She looked over at it but didn't make any quick movements to answer it until she managed to keep some steady pressure on her shoulder. Before she could even say hello, loud yelling ensued on the other end about how she missed her personal and physical training sessions, her doctor's appointment, and a million other requirements. Sighing, she finally answered once the yelling stopped, "I can be there in half an hour...Yes, sir, I understand and take full responsibility," and with that she hung up, wishing she could throw her phone against a wall but she technically needed it practically as a life support system or an extra limb. Looking over at Dylan, she sighed again, more so in defeat than anything, "Willing to take a ride to my apartment and then over to the base?" she was partially asking because she had a feeling he had nothing else to do today and then also partially asking so she could keep an eye on him so he wouldn't start another drinking binge. Already knowing what the doctor was going to say, she knew she wouldn't be able to lift him again-not for a while for the most part. She was sure there was something more wrong with her shoulder than just that bullet wound but she had been ignoring it since she got it out on the field. After all, while she got out with just a couple wounds, the others weren't as lucky, "I have to go to a doctor's appointment over there for the obvious and maybe he can check out the number I did on you," she chuckled, though she turned red at the memory of actually shooting him. She still couldn't believe she'd done that. She was so unstable...and she knew it, deep down, but just didn't want to admit it. COLLECTING YOUR JAR OF HEARTS AND TEARING LOVE APART template by eliza @ shadowplay |
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Post by graeson on Dec 22, 2011 17:09:24 GMT -5
His blue eyes stared over at her as she spoke about making the changes for herself. That was what he had needed to hear. While he deserved her spite, he wanted her to go through that pain for herself. He would have loved to be there for her to hold her hand, but he wanted the choice to be her own. He wanted her to want to change because it was just that. Her want to change. Sighing in contentment, he watched her beautiful face now, his hand going to stroke her cheek in a way that Dylan had never thought possible before. He loved this young woman before him even if he was afraid to admit it at the moment. Touching her face gently, lovingly, a soft smile played on his lips as she suddenly shifted positions. As she sat on top of him, his hands went to her thighs, his fingers playing on them with circles. When she leaned down to kiss him, he leaned forward a bit, his own wants and needs being satiated as he gave into her and took her for all she was worth. He had been waiting for this moment for ages now.
Grinning after they parted, he listened to her words. "In the back of a cop car? Leslie Devon, have you no morals?" His tone was filled with sarcasm though, and his playful eyes only held a mischievous gleam. He had actually never done it in the back of a cop car. He had always wanted to but he had never found the right girl for that. The fact that Leslie Devon was the one who had introduced the idea floored him though. This girl, this beautiful, once completely innocent, young woman was just as kinky as he was. And he absolutely loved it. Laughing slightly, he voiced his opinion. "What happened to you Devon? I can't say I'm complaining, but I never thought I'd hear that from your lips." Grinning handsomely now, he reached up once more and brought her face towards his, crashing his lips against hers. If that didn't give her her answer he didn't know what else would. However, the moment was broken when she seemed distracted by something. Furrowing his brow in worry as she asked him for medical wire, he shook his head. "No. I can't say that I have that on hand." He spoke honestly, watching her as she stood up and went into his kitchen. When she placed the rag on her shoulder, fear rippled through his abdomen and he sat up straight on the couch. Watching her carefully, he studied her face and saw the slight discomfort there. How could they have not noticed that that had happened? There was an obvious answer to that, but he still felt like a jerk. "I'm really sorry Les.." He spoke up, feeling slightly responsible for her shoulder.
Getting up from where he had just been laying, Dylan showed his lack of modesty by walking cross his living room naked as the day he was born. She had already seen it all so what was the point in hiding it from her now? He disappeared into the bedroom and came out moments later wearing blue jeans and a black tee shirt. She didn't have to ask him twice when she asked if he would mind taking a ride to her apartment and then to the base. However, there would be one condition. He was driving. Grinning for a moment, he held up his keys. "You're injured. I'm stepping into the...senior position and being your chauffeur. You have no choice." He stated matter of factly and then waited for her to get her clothes on from last night. Grabbing his cell phone, he let her out of the apartment first and locked the door behind them. Stepping down the stairs, he held the outside door open for her as well and then pointed at the black Harley that was sitting in an empty parking place outside of the building. Grinning to her, he hurried to the bike and got on, waiting for her to settle in behind him. He gave her the option of wearing a helmet and put sunglasses on his own face. Starting the bike up, he revved it and was soon on the way to her apartment. It didn't take him very long because of how fast that he drove, and once they got there he waited outside for her patiently. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be in this situation. It was like it was all a dream and he wondered when he was going to wake up. It had to happen sooner or later. Things weren't that good in his life. They never were.
TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 940
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0 [/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Dec 27, 2011 13:53:11 GMT -5
Leslie couldn't help but chuckle when he said he couldnt believe she'd come up with such an idea, "let's just say I dont just never...voiced...certain things before,". She smirked and after cleaning off her shoulder, she looked over at him. She couldn't help but grin softly as he seemed to easily take charge. There was the Dylan she used to know. Little by little he'd come back into the light but with a nocer touch to him even if she did love him as an asshole womanizer she also loved him like this: as the real and more noble Dylan she used to think didn't exist. As he revved up the bike, she didn'r hesitate to get on despite the form fitting short dress and heels she wore. She was Leslie Devon and she wasn't afraid of anything, right? Once they got to her apartment, she took the fastest shower known to mankind, got her long blond hair up into the perfect bun, then finally got her uniform on. Making sure there was no left over makeup on her face, she went outside and was suddenly serious. When she was in uniform, she felt like a completely different. She felt more prideful and stronger physically though mentally she felt worse than before. So many things, probably all the worst things that ever happened to her happened in uniform.
As she reached the bike and Graeson, she looked a bit harder than she did before but she somehow cracked a smile and placed a sweet kiss on his lips, "when we get there," she looked him right in the eyes and her tone went serious, " don't say anything unless you're directly spoken to,"she put her hands on his broad shoulders. "It's a respect thing and they don't really care if you're a civilian or not since you're on their turf,"she wasn't kidding either. She saw it happen tons of times before though only toward men. Toward women, they were somehow understanding. She knew it was sexist but that's just the way things were.
As they got to the base, she got off the bike once it was parked and started toward her commanding officer's building, already knowing DYlan would follow since the base didn't really have a visistor's center. Her commanding officer was a big, tall, beefy looking man with a square jaw and he looked ready to rip leslie a party new one until he saw dylan and then shook his head a bit, "this is him, huh?"she leslie was already in the saluting position and then she nodded, "yes sir."her commanding officer knew all about him from when she would ramble on when they got drunk a few times overseas and after bootcamp. "Well, pleasure to finally meet ya, dylan,"she he chuckled and held his hand out to forcefully shake his, "for a second i thought devon was making you up. No wonder you havent answered the phone. Now get the hell inside to get that arm looked at, corporal,"she leslie nodded with a chuckle at his words. Thankfully there was noone around considering he had a fierce reputation to uphold. He just liked devon or he would have been a completely different person and it was obvious just by his stance and the way he'd barked at her to go inside to the clinic. Once alone in the hallway, she reached her hand out and laced it into his own, "he's like a big teddy bear, staff sergeant sullivan,"she glanced over at dylan, "he played dad to all of us out on the field."she didn't speak about many people that way in the military at least. Reaching the door to the doctor's office, th doctor was probably as big as the officer but a bit more on the llean side . He smiled brightly at devon but frowned a bit at dylan. He was surprisingly good looking for a doctor. He had the typical buzz cut to his black hair and bright green orbs.
"You finally showed,"he chuckled to devon as she easily started taking off her many tops until she was in her bra and the nasty wound was visible as she sat on a chair so he could examine it better, "long story, doc,"she she smiled as she looked over at dylan and the doctor seemed to notice. Truth was, she had a bit of a fling with the doctor a while back- both having gotten used to loss and comforting each other, "she i see that,"she and the jealousy was evident in his tone, "i know i taught you how to do stitches but next time let me handle it,"she he smiled at her again and she rolled her eyes before wincing while he cleaned it out, "so who are you? Her cousin or friend?"it was pparent he didn't want to say boyfriend or lover as he brushed his fingers across her bare shoulder affectionately but she was too wrapped up in the stinging of her wound to really notice.
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Sorry this looks funny i wrote it out on my phone lol ill make it pretty later.
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Post by graeson on Jan 4, 2012 11:20:08 GMT -5
Graeson knew that he was changing because of this girl, but that was a good thing. He was changing for the better and it was something that he had needed to do a long time ago. He wished that this would change him when it came to work as well. Before, he'd let people off with warnings if they did things for him, especially young women. He had gotten many a girl in his bed that way. He was a dirty cop and that was something that he wasn't ready to admit to Leslie yet. What if she hated him for it? She was someone who took her job seriously and Graeson just thought of it as a joke for the most part when it came to petty law violations. Of course he'd take something bigger more serious, but it shouldn't matter the crime. He should uphold the pledge that he took, but after Leslie left he had let it fly right out the window. It was like he was bitter, and this was the only way he could get back at her. He knew how serious she took her job and by doing this he was defying her. Now that he no longer wanted to defy her, he wanted to please her. He wanted to make her proud of him. He wanted to make her love him. Things were changing, and he wanted nothing more than to just start over. It seemed like they were heading down that road. Never before had Graeson seen himself with her in this way, but he was entirely grateful and blessed to have this opportunity again. He didn't want to do anything to screw it all up again.
Sighing to himself as he waited outside Leslie's apartment for her, he wondered why he had ever let her go that morning. It wasn't because she didn't look like the other women that he brought home. It was nothing like that and Leslie honestly didn't have to change her appearance for him because that morning he knew that her looks didn't matter. It was what was inside of her that made all the difference to him, and he wished he could go back and change what he did that morning to her. It could never happen obviously, and they seemed to be moving on now. But it would forever eat away at Dylan and he didn't know how to make it stop. Shaking his head, he looked over his shoulder as he heard movements from inside of the building. She had said she'd be ten minutes, and she was. Dylan could have gone inside with her but he had chosen to stay outside, to let the fresh air clear his confused thoughts. He didn't know what road they were about to travel down, but he knew in his heart that he wanted to stick to it with Leslie Devon. He should have realized that a long time ago.
A small grin lit his face when she came out of her building, her face somber and serious in her military uniform. Of course Graeson had to make her smile. "That uniform turns me on. You look hot." He said with a cheeky grin on his face, walking to his bike that was still parked outside. Getting on, he looked over as she tried to get his attention and succeeded by kissing his lips. He returned the favor, deepening it for a moment before letting her escape and speak. As she told him not to speak unless spoken too, he rolled his eyes playfully. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior. But I better get a reward for this." He teased, knowing that it would freak her out a bit if he hadn't promised to behave. Graeson was notorious for his biting remarks and sarcasm, and if he was at a military base one would think he'd have a field day. But for Devon, he'd be good. He'd do what she wanted him to do. Grinning to himself as he started up the bike, he revved the engine and they were off in seconds. It didn't take them very long to get there because of course Dylan's driving skills were quick and to the point. It just didn't take them as long as it should have, but hey, who was complaining?
He wanted her to get down and over with at this base so he could take her home again . Trying to focus when they arrived, he made sure his bike was in an appropriate space, and then followed after Leslie. Her stride was filled with purpose, and he had to lengthen his own to keep up with her. He walked a bit behind her, and when they reached her commanding officer, Graeson forced himself to be quiet. He didn't like the way that the man started speaking to her, chastising her, but he had promised to keep his silence. But it was obvious he was a bit put off by it all, and it was even more obvious that Dylan could never make it in the army. He couldn't take people yelling at him like that, and his over protective nature wouldn't allow him to remain quiet if his friends were being admonished as well. He then felt the man's eyes turn to him, and it seemed to shut him up for a moment. Dylan readied himself, his gaze sharpening slightly as the man spoke about him. Yes it was him. He was about to ask if he had a problem, but then the man offered his hand and Dylan took it firmly. "The pleasure's mine sir. And nope, not made up. I'm as real as real can be." He said, trying to hide the sarcasm in his tone. The man was being nice and Dylan was trying his hardest to return that emotion.
Following after Devon as the man told her where to go, Dylan nodded in respect to the man before them and then quickly and gently took her hand in his as they walked along. "Oh yeah. He seems so warm and fuzzy." He noted sarcastically and then entered the examination room with her when the doctor directed her in. Dylan's blue eyes took in the sight of the man and he looked him over, seeing him as a challenge. Instantly his guard was up, and he knew his jealousy was going to come out full force if this guy tried anything. Hearing the jealousy in the doctor's tone made Dylan's temper rise. So they had something. He could tell just because of the way that man was speaking and looking at him. His temper flared once more and he was doing his best to remain calm for Devon's sake. He didn't want to embarrass her in any way, but this was definitely hard for him. Watching as the doctor fixed Leslie's shoulder, he was glad that he was wearing a jacket so that the man wouldn't see Dylan's bloody side. He didn't even want that guy touching him. As the question was direction to him, Dylan snorted in response. "Her boyfriend." His voice was filled with ice, and he crossed his arms in another moment, watching the doctor for his reaction. But with those two words, Dylan had just made the first commitment with a woman in his life. With those words, Dylan had just showed Leslie how serious he was. He was in this for keeps, and no doctor was going to ruin it.
TAG - DEVON and DYLAN
WORDS - 1409
NOTES - Wearing THIS
TUNES - devil in a midnight mass , billy talent.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0 [/font][/center] |
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Post by LESLIE DEVON on Jan 4, 2012 22:22:10 GMT -5
As he said he was her boyfriend, she looked up at Graeson and she felt a soft smile forming on her face at the word affectionately. She bit her lower lip to try and suppress it because she was in uniform but she couldn't help herself, "Boyfriend, huh? So he knew about the deployment once you're better, right?" Leslie didn't see Doc as being spiteful with the statement but her smile and eyes fell a bit at remembering how she had volunteered to go back overseas. It had been before she'd made amends with Dylan and before she'd gotten the job at the police station. At the moment, it had been a mutual agreement between her and doc that they'd go together since they were on the same squad and their commanding officer had easily approved. She winced as she felt the needle pierce her skin. "No, I haven't told him...yet," she looked up at Dylan with wavering eyes, "I volunteered for another tour over in Afghanistan. It's only supposed to be six months...I did it before I even got back to Sapphire Bay," she explained it as best she could and kept still as doc started reapplying the stitches.
"She only made it out with a scratch last time. I'm sure she'll be more careful this time around, ey?" Leslie let out a chuckle as she partially glanced over at the doc behind her, "Next time I won't run into that field so blindly, yeah? Kids can be bitches," she laughed a bit and so did he at their inside joke. After all, it had been a kid who shot her from behind without her expecting it. She'd been trying to save him, thinking he was a civilian, when her commanding officer told her not to. She had disobeyed direct orders and now here she was paying the consequences for her own stubborn nature. "OO-Rah!" he laughed and she laughed along with him as if getting shot was a joke. Truthfully, it was obvious just a cover up for their own fears that had hit them like an anvil that day, especially Leslie, who had thought that was it. She was going to die dragging another soldier off to safety because she was losing an insane amount of blood in her shoulder-much too close to her heart.
"So how long have you guys been dating? I don't remember you ever mentioning a boyfriend, Les," he patched her up and then handed her her top once he cleaned off anything in the way and put a bandage over it. She winced as she moved and was grateful for the help in putting her arm through the arm holes. The blonde looked up at Dylan and smiled brightly, "Well, it's definitely a story for the books," she chuckled, "But I always did have a weak spot for a man in uniform," she joked before standing, again wincing a bit at the pain that shot through her. She comfortably leaned against Dylan a bit as if standing was starting to make her tired, "Here," he scribbled something on a notepad and handed it to her, "For the pain. And I'd say no vigorous activity until it's fully healed this time?" Leslie nodded as she took the paper, folded it and put it in her pocket though she could then see what he meant by vigorous activity. Well, she was definitely going to disobey that order. She didn't care if they opened back up again...How could she not have sex with Dylan after their rendezvous earlier? "And it was nice to meet you....erm..."
"Oh! I'm sorry! Graeson Dylan-the boyfriend extraordinaire," she said with a soft chuckle and a proud smile as she looked over at Dylan and laced her fingers into his hand. "OO-rah, Les. I'll see you in a few days for the psycho analysis test," and with that, Leslie was out the door without thinking twice about it. Leaning her head a bit on Dylan's shoulder, she looked up at him, "Was that jealousy I sensed in there?" she asked him quietly once they were out of earshot, "Doc is just doc. We had this weird fling thing overseas but it didn't amount to anything," she didn't bother mentioning they had shared a few heated kisses but that was irrelevant. It never went further than that. It was Doc's job to take care of her mentally and physically. She'd taken it the wrong way because she wasn't used to others taking care of her and it had stemmed from there. Plus, he'd met her after her little makeover. He didn't see her before that. He assumed she'd just always looked this way while Dylan knew the truth and she loved Dylan, though she had yet to admit it out loud, "Come on, if you lighten up I'll give you what I owe you...and defy direct orders," she winked at him being playful.
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