[scene] Alison & Warren

[dazzlerock.livejournal.com]

Alison plopped down onto the sidewalk, flipping open her guitar case and removing her battered acoustic, determined to add to her slowly growing 'Repay the Kellers' fund. She plucked at a few random chords before grudgingly strumming the opening bars of Jingle Bell Rock.

“'Tis the fuckin' season, right?” She muttered to herself, trying to fend off the overwhelming wave of self loathing that threatened to envelop her as she began to sing the tacky lyrics of the carol in a voice filled with false cheer.
She belted carol after carol, fuelled by the frequent chinks and clinks of coins being chucked into her guitar case, and the less frequent fluttering decent of a green bill or two. Her repertoire was coming quickly to its end, and she reluctantly began to sing the one carol she had been avoiding all morning.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore how closely the lyrics applied to her current situation, and subsequently didn't see the figure that had stopped beside her to listen.

“Christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams...” She crooned, swallowing the lump in her throat, her eyes still closed to hide the tears that had been cultivating behind her lids. “I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams...”

Her voice broke a little on the last word, and she was jarred back to the street with the sound of soft clapping. She looked up, finally noticing the familiar face that towered above her seated form. The sun hovering above his face glimmered, giving the illusion of a halo. Her heart stopped for a moment and a sickening knot twisted in her stomach.

“Warren...” His name came out as barely a whisper, her mouth dry as parchment.

“Jono told me what you've been up to, but I had to come see for myself.” His hands were buried deep in hi pockets, the look on his face was decidedly unhappy. “What I can't understand is why you didn't tell me, Ali. You know I would have--”

“I was afraid--”

“Afraid of what?” He demanded sharply, and Ali was taken aback. She'd never seen him angry. “Afraid that I'd be ashamed of you? That I'd think you weren't good enough for me? Because that's the last--”

“I was afraid you'd let me use you...that I'd let myself use you.” Her fingers played across a few minor chords without thinking. “I couldn't do that to you, War. I'm not with you 'cause I need you, I'm with you 'cause I want you.”

She looked up and the trepidation and sincerity on her face caused him to soften. “I—I understand, but you need to tell me what's going on Ali. I can't be with you if you keep shutting me out.” His heart sank even as he offered up his thinly disguised ultimatum. “We need to be honest with each other.”

Ali's eyes left his, moving to focus on his very expensive shoes. She picked at a few strings again, wincing as she fumbled across them, a collection of poorly paired notes bridging the silence between them, the discord making her ache, though she suspected it was more than just the music that was making her heart hurt.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered, venturing a fleeting glance at him. He didn't look angry, but he did look terribly disappointed, and she couldn't tell which was worse.

“I know.” He sighed, looking up at the sky. “I'm sorry, too.”

Oh God... She clenched her eyes shut. I've fucked this up too...

Warren, recognizing the look as one she made when she was fighting back tears. He crouched down, crooking his finger under her chin and tilting her face up with gentle firmness. Her eyes were still closed, but fluttering lightly. He placed a soft kiss against her mouth, taking advantage of the small gasp she let out to deepen it, his tongue sliding across hers before he pulled away abruptly, leaving Ali gasping, mouth agape, eyes wide.

He took her guitar from her hands and placed it gently into the case atop the fair amount of change shed collected. “Get up. I'm taking you to lunch and you're...” He offered his hand to her, her guitar held firmly in his other, “going to tell me everything.”

She nodded, reaching for her guitar case, feeling like a chastised child. She was silent as she followed him down the block, looking up as they waited for the light to change at the intersection. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me.” Warren cast a sidelong glance at her, adding, “I know a little place. Quiet. We can talk there.”

She nodded, looking at her scuffed boots. Her eyes darted up to his face, then down to his hand, hanging idly by his side. Her fingers itched to grab hold of it tightly, and they twitched a little, her hand moving ever so slowly, before she hesitated. Warren looked at her puzzled, then down at her hand, frozen in the space between them. She blushed, letting her hand drop, but before it could disappear into her jacket pocket, he had laced his fingers between hers and pressed their palms together, pulling her closer so her shoulder brushed his as they began to walk again in a more comfortable silence.

They arrived at a small diner and Ali was thankful that it wasn't a fancier place. They slid into a booth in the back corner across from each other and Ali busied herself with distractions: lining up the sugar, salt and pepper shakers; straightening her cutlery; examining the small dessert menu that was encased in had plastic and propped against the napkin dispenser. Warren watched her silently, ordering a coffee from the waitress when she came by, as did Ali.

Warren continued to watch her, fidgeting with the menu, scrutinizing it as though it were some very important document. The waitress returned with their coffees, placing steaming white porcelain in front of each of them. Ali ordered a burger and fries, then, looking at Warren hesitantly, asked for a chocolate milkshake as well. “With two straws...”

The waitress smiled, looking to Warren for his order, but he simply shook his head. “I'm fine, thanks.”

Alone again, Ali's hands wrapped protectively around her mug, she looked at him, his calm gaze unwavering, patient but expectant.

“You're just gonna sit there and stare at me until I spill, aren't you?” She asked softly, spinning her mug slowly between her hands, thankful for the warmth.

Warren shrugged, taking a sip from his own mug. “I don't have anywhere else to be and I can't think of anyone I'd rather stare at.”

“War...” She blushed, looking down into her mug. “I don't even know where to start.”

He leaned back. “The beginning is always good.”

“I—when Logan and Frost...” She sighed, looking up at the ceiling, her evasion of his gaze not going unnoticed. “I had nowhere to go. The first few nights I was able to stay in hostels, I had a little money, but...” She trailed off, looking out the window. “And then after, I crashed in Jimmy—my drummer—I crashed in his van, but it was kinda cold and crowded and...”

He frowned, hating her pride, wishing she had only asked him for the help she'd needed. He slid his hand across the table and took one of hers, gently squeezing it.

“I ran out of cash way faster than I expected.” So soft, he barely heard her confession. “I know what you’re going to say and—I couldn't...” She bit her lip. “I've lived like this before. I know how ugly it is. I didn't—I couldn't let you...”

She closed her eyes, silence stretching between them. He squeezed her hand, harder this time. “It's okay, Ali...take your time.”

She nodded, looking up at him, then at the approaching waitress. She pulled her hand away and dropped it into her lap as the smiling blonde placed a plate full of food in front of her. “You need anything else?”

Warren smiled, “No thanks. We’re fine.”

He turned his attention back to Ali, who was picking at her fries. “I didn't want you...any of you to think I couldn't handle myself.” She looked up at him solemnly. “I can.”

“I know.”

“I hocked my electric and my amp, got enough cash from it to keep myself fed, that kind of stuff... I kept the acoustic, that was a help as well.” She looked down at her food, picking up the burger finally and taking a bite. “Jono - that was totally a fluke. He just...right place, right time, you know? He...he’s a cool guy, you know. I guess I figured he got that I didn't want pity; he just sat down and jammed with me for a bit. It was...nice.”

Warren nodded, and she ate a bit more in silence, taking a sip from the milkshake they were supposed to be sharing, though he had showed no interest in it at all.

“Julian...” She sighed, knowing it would be the hardest thing to explain. “I didn't mean for him to find out. He just...he has this way of getting things out of you, y'know?”

“Getting things out of you maybe...” Warren muttered, immediately regretting his words.

“I--” Ali looked as though shed be slapped in the face. She looked down at her hands, resting in her lap. “I deserve that. I...it's not like I wanted--” She bit her lip, trying to find the words. “I know how shitty it was of me to let him help me, when I wouldn't even talk to you about any of this...”

“It was.” He said in a hushed voice. “That—finding that out really hurt, Ali. Jono didn't know about Julian, but once he said Bobby went to visit you at the Hilton...I'm not stupid. I know the Kellers--”

“I'm really sorry.” She leaned forward, pushing the plate aside so she could reach across and take his hands. “You gotta believe me about that. Lying to you, hurting you...that's the last thing I ever wanted to do.” She sighed, squeezing his hands tighter. “I know that's exactly what I did but...” She trailed off. “Please don't hate me, Warren.”

“Ali...” He carefully extracted his hands from her desperate grip and laced them with hers, his level gaze locked with hers, his stare intense, boring deep into her soul. “I could never hate you.”

She smiled weakly. “Doesn't make me feel any better about what I did.”

“I--” Warren paused, measuring his words. “I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me.”

Ali's surprised grin warmed his heart, and he gently released her hands, pushing her plate back in front of her. “Trust me, Flyboy. I'll make it up and then some.”

He watched her finish her food, ordering another cup of coffee from the waitress when she came by again. At length, when he was pretty sure she wasn't planning on adding anything more he ventured a question. “I still don't really understand why you didn't think you could come to me.”

She looked out the window, then back at him. “You want honesty, right?”

He nodded.

“I was scared...no, not scared. Terrified. I—I lost everything out here, War. My home, my band, my guitar, my dignity...” She spat the last word out, her face twisting as though it tasted foul in her mouth. “I couldn't risk losing you, too.”

“Ali, why would you think--” He began, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

“Because if you'd known, if you'd seen the way I was living...” She swallowed hard, looking away, hiding her shame. “You might have seen that I don't deserve an angel like you.”

He frowned, his hands gripping his mug tighter, knuckles blanching. “I have never. Ever thought anything like that.”

“I have.” She whispered, and her tone was so soft, so sorrowful, his anger and frustration melted.

“Do you even know why I like you so much, Ali?” He asked, looking out the window at the bustling street.

“...no.” She looked at him, intrigued.

“Because you don't change for anybody, you don't let people push you around; you're just...you.” He smiled, looking down at their joined hands. “You're funny, and talented, you're so...dynamic.” He squeezed her hands, finishing. “And so god damn beautiful.”

“War...” She blushed, unused to any kind of flattery. “I'm not--”

“You are.” He insisted, reaching over to brush her hair away from her face. “I know you know you're sexy, but there's so much more to you than that. Why do you think I love--” as he said it he watched Ali's eyes widen. Nervous, he back pedalled, stammering, “...spending time with you?”

Ali looked at him, stupefied for a moment, before shrugging. “I thought it was just the sex appeal.”

He smiled, leaning across the table, kissing her gently, and the taste of chocolate and French fries and her was intoxicating.

He settled back on the plush bench, grinning happily.

“So...” Ali drew the word out, lengthening one syllable to five. “Does this...are we okay now?”

Warren slid from the booth, pulling out his wallet and throwing her a charming smile. “More than okay, beautiful.”

Ali watched puzzled, as he went up to the register to pay for their meal. When he came back, she was still giving him that same curious look.

“What?” he asked, holding her coat open so she could slip her arms inside.

“Beautiful?” She asked, picking up her guitar case as he slid his overcoat on, wondering who he got to design his clothes so that they would still look impeccable on him, despite the holes that were needed to accommodate his wings.

He shrugged, grabbing her hand and leading her out into the street again. “You think Julian's the only one that's gonna call my girl beautiful?”

“Just don’t go thinking you're gonna impress me by acting like him, Flyboy.” She tugged him down to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Hellspawn's got nothing on you.”

Warren grinned and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and leading her across the street to a small park. They slowed their pace, but Warren noticed Ali's stride was hesitant.

“What is it?” Warren asked, furrowing his brow.

“I don't know...” Ali sighed, pulling away from him and letting her hand close around his. “I just...I know I disappointed you.”

“Ali...”

She looked up at him, her gaze keen and piercing. “I'm always gonna let you down.”

“Stop it.” He said, and his tone was gentle, but he couldn't hide his conviction. He turned to face her, taking her guitar case and setting it down so he could hold both her hands in his. “Everything you keep saying, about not being good enough for me...it couldn't be further from the truth.” He bent and kissed her, desperate to convey, one way or another, that he meant every word. “You're perfect. Just the way you are.”

Ali flushed, squeezing his hands, letting him pull her closer, their eyes locked in a soulful gaze. Warren took both of her hands in one of his, reaching the other up to cradle her face, his thumb gently brushing across her lower lip; her tongue darted out to trace his finger's path for a second before retreating into her mouth.

“War...I--” She murmured breathlessly, closing her eyes, teeth worrying at her lower lip, terrified of the words she'd been wanting to say for so long. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes halfway to watch his face as she spoke. “I love you.”

She held her breath, waiting for his response, watching him carefully as though if she even blinked she'd miss something crucial. He smiled so broadly that her heart skipped a beat as he pulled her against his chest, his mouth descending to meet hers in the sweetest of kisses. His wings lifted, spreading just a little, and the wind rustled through his feathers with a whisper.

He dropped his hand from her face, sliding his arm around her waist, his fingers lingering on the patch of exposed skin at her hip. Ali freed one of her hands to press against Warren's chest, feeling the hammering beat of his heart and smiling against his mouth. Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull herself up, trying to somehow find a way to be even closer to him. Forsaking the designer shirt, she slid her hand up over his collarbone and hooked her arm around his neck. She reluctantly let go of his hand, which was crushed between them, and while his went to her waist, hers ran through his blonde curls.

They were lost in each other, their kiss growing ever deeper, every moment bringing them closer to each other until it would have been impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, save for the stark difference between his tailor made overcoat, plush and earthy, and her beaten up flight jacket, salt-stained and torn.

After what seemed like eternity, Warren broke away, breathing hard. He brushed her hair back, smiling at how pink and swollen her lips were. “Come back with me.”

“Warren--” He pressed a finger to her lips.

“Please, Ali. I can’t stand being away from you like this.” He kissed her again quickly, as if it could convince her.

“I can't either, but...” She tried to look away but his finger crooked, gently but firm, beneath her chin wouldn't let her. “Please...you gotta understand.”

He sighed and nodded, another soft, open-mouthed kiss descending on her before her released her, and they both felt a little chill from the separation and the weather. He reached into a pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to retrieve a wad of bills.

“Warren, no.” Ali protested, shaking her head.

“Yes, Ali.” He told her, pressing the money into her palm and closing her fingers around it. “Take it. For me.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and sparkling. She shoved the money into her pocket, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him soundly again. “Thank you...for everything.”

He only smiled, picking up her guitar case and taking her hand, leading her through the park once again.

“So...” Ali grinned. “Now that you know where I'm staying, you're gonna come visit me more often, right?”

“You really think you could stop me?” He asked with a smirk.

“I wouldn't even try.”

“Good.”