There was a stifled yawn emitted from a half awake figure as he began to arise.
Darren raised a white blonde eyebrow and raked his slender fingers through his golden hair, slicking it back from the overuse of extra gel he had used last night – sighing, almost amusedly at the cemented cowlick that had become his usually sleek hair, and casually admiring his pale face and ringed eyed reflection in a mirror.

This was not a good way to start the day.

He stepped over the crushed beer cans and easily avoided creating groans from the people that were littered on the floor like leaves, gliding over them silently and only creating a faint squeak of floorboards as he walked, casting his gaze over the mass of litter, sleeping hung-over forms and decaying pizza cases –, sighing at the strands of once full slices of food clinging to the cardboard and taking his ice blue gaze to the door – maybe he could get out before;

"Darrrrreeennn…"

The figure froze – halfway between lifting a foot over several snoring familiar faces – no – it couldn't be-

It was.

The haunting eyes of Petra Eager took to his and she laughed shrilly, creating groans from the sleeping figures, waggling her bright pink fake nails at him and smiling in a way that would have made Frankenstein scream.

"Hey Baby, not planning on leaving were you?"

Darren hesitated. His mind trying desperately hard to decide on whether to stay and get the worst over with, or – make a sudden dash to the door.

His courage failed him, and his slender structure slumped – defeated.

"of course not-" his voice faulted – "honey?" his weak smile took to his lips, and he edged slightly to the door before having the wind taken from his lungs as Petra grappled her arm around his waist – swinging him into a full latched kiss, her tongue taking forcefully between his lips – her teeth edging against his jaw;

Oh Gawd… just pretend she's Abby, - Abby's good… How come this is still bad?!

Eager was a good last name for Petra, for – as it was – she was known as a complete… perhaps sleeper wasn't a very nice way to put it- very 'eager ' person in the mating business.

Darren pushed her iron grip away – gasping slightly, remembering to breathe. Petra giggled, flashing her slightly yellow teeth and trying to flick her hair, only unable to do so because of the massive amount of hair spray she had used the previous night, a product that made her hairstyle keep every single piece of her copper brown hair in the exact same place all night.

The male figure of eighteen, coughed slightly, almost stepping on a bulky sleeping form as he withdrew from the girl;

"Petra, don't you remember? I - We…"

His hand rubbed the back of his head, and a faint blush took to his pale face;

"Broke up…" he finished, casting his silvery blue gaze away and suddenly finding his shoelaces very interesting;

"Don't you remember?"

Petra blinked, tears welling in her dull grey eyes, her hands equipped with fake products splaying in front of her face – her lips pursing and then opening to form a 'o' shape.

"I thought you were joking!" she wailed, and seemed to ignore completely when an annoyed – now awake – figure groaned and hurled a slice of congealed pizza at her, gawking at the sight of it sticking to the back of her pure white jacket.

Darren blinked, slightly shocked, baffled and with even a slight hint of a laugh catching at his next words;

"Petra, we- we broke up six months ago!"

The next moment, Petra's bright red handbag – filled supposedly with storage of extra fake nails and 'emergency' moisturizer – came clanging into the side of Darren's head – and not for the first time.

Darren groaned as he woke again, remembering the flash of red leather before it had collided with the side of his head – the brief moment of sleepy laughter – and finally darkness.

It was still dark now, or at least it seemed to be, something was covering his eyes and protecting them from focusing on anything apart from the black cloth that someone had put over his closed eyelids.

Darren groaned, pulling himself upwards and blinking – covering his face momentarily with his fingers as he blinked in the sudden bright light, beginning to take in the surroundings around him and confusedly rubbing the black cloth of protection between his pale fingers – taking in the smells of bacon frying and birds chirping outside – causing his pounding head to throb even more painfully, the familiar sensation of a hang over coming over him.

"Awake I see"

The male turned, his slender structure forming into a better posture against the plump pillows beneath him – finding himself on the ground of an unknown house and with a blanket tucked around his thin limbs – not quite reaching over his tall frame, but he barely realized this – he was facing an angel.

The girl grinned, "hungry?" she asked, and for a moment disappeared in a flash of white and gold.

Darren rubbed his eyes, his gaze taking over the form of – Abby Taylor.

Abby was possibly as close to an angel as a mortal could get – her hair was a wave of soft blonde and gold, and her slender frame was wearing a item of pure white, covered in cream nightgown with figures of dancing butterflies printed up one side, a sash obtaining both cuts and entwining them so only a small profile of the slender silk dress beneath showed.

Darren smiled lazily, stretching back – and enjoying himself – or at least seeming to, his mind was turning quickly;

What had happened, why – How had he ended up here…? How much had he drunk?

He shook off the thoughts, planning to save them for later and smiled easily – his pale face lighting like a bulb of energy, his ice blue eyes coming into true focus and almost enjoying the sight of Abby taking an item from a pan and placing it on a plate – watching with interest as she wound her way back to him – entering the supposed 'Living Room' again.

"Bacon?" she asked.

Darren took one look at the ribbons of fried meat and jumped up from the room, his athletic legs swinging wildly as he made his way towards the bathroom – one hand clutched to his mouth.

Abby was making her way around hurriedly throughout the rooms – how did the whole house smell of fried meat when she had only been in the kitchen? – She for one didn't know.

In one slender hand she was equipped with a can of 'Spring Tide Air Freshener' and the other was wildly flapping as if to send the waves of fake 'Ocean Tide Scent' throughout each room – a frown creasing her forehead and feeling her stomach heave slightly as she head the sounds of retching come once again from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Must have been some party" she murmured to herself, sighing and taking a glass from a shelf – capturing a spider beneath it, as though in a glass cage and with ease turning it over in her hand – so the live spider scuttled into the bottom of the glass, without falling.

She made her way to the door, and watched with mild amusement and fascination as the spider flung itself out of the glass – hanging onto a silvery thread and clinging to a tree branch as it was set free from the apartment.

She turned and let out a small intake of sudden breath as she realized Darren stood right in front of her;

"Hi" she said, slightly shaken.

Her hazel eyes took to his and she blushed, finding sudden interest in the glass at her hand. The male in front of her was a slender build, and his usual healthy face was pale and with a faint tinge of green. Dark circles ringed his icy blue eyes and his usually soft blonde hair was slicked backwards with an overuse of gel. The faint smell of alcohol, dried sweat, aftershave and sick clung to his baggy clothes like the air freshener around them.

Darren smiled meekly, trying to ignore his groaning stomach – pounding headache, putting a hand out slightly, as if to take Abby's but then drawing away – his arm hanging limply at his side – his eyes casting away;

"How'd I get here?"

The hot pouring water flaunted the hollows of the male's slender body.
Branched with visible muscle tones and pale skin, Darren led his hands upwards, letting his perfect half crescent nails wind up one side of his skin, splaying over his chest and then thrusting his head forward into the gush of steam and liquid, loving the sensation of hot water on his once clammy skin.

Clothes were scattered over the titled ground, a mix of pale cream to a soft blue, sheeted with a shiny glaze and matching the soft white walls perfectly. The glass shower door was steamed up heavily, and the slender figure 'midst the swirling heat was barely recognizable from behind the sheet of fogged glass.

He ran his fingers through his blonde shoulder length hair, and began to sort out the conversation he and Abby had had just moments before;

"How'd I get here?"

Darren watched as Abby – a girl he barely knew – tossed aside a can, as though she wished him not to see it – and he wondered what it was for a brief moment, but he barely needed to – the scent of air freshener was clinging to everything in the room and seemed to solve the question immediately.

Abby stuttered, and Darren amusedly watched her blush again – almost enjoying the sight of her soft cheeks glowing with embarrassment – then she spoke;

"When Petra 'attacked' you, I think she had forgotten about her can of hairspray in her handbag-"

Her gaze directed at him and she spoke again, confidence beginning to take to her slightly quavering voice;

"You blacked out, and the next moment her parents were home – you should have seen their faces-" Darren coughed slightly, in a way that could have been taken for a laugh "-everyone made a dash for the door instantly – and of course you were still lying on the ground – I asked Mike and Pete to bring you here- my house was closest"

Darren made a note in the back of his head to thank the two afterwards, one for saving him from both being trampled and caught, the other for bringing him here – to the most beautiful girl in the school's house, instead of insisting on bringing him back to his own.

Mike, Pete and Darren had been friends together for what seemed like forever – they were so different, Mike quiet and solemn – always a little more cautious of the other two and keeping them slightly more in order then they would have liked, and in general keeping them more in control then any other could. Pete was a happy go lucky kind of guy, handsome and with a 'great personality' as the gang of girls who always seemed to be hanging off his arms seemed to be saying. Darren seemed to be between the two, half between being slightly less social and warm then Mike, and yet still able to have a great time and crack some terrible – but somehow very funny jokes with the two.

Even though they were all so different, the three got along well – despite their personality's that would have usually have clashed badly.

There was a creak at the door – and it opened. Darren hardly noticed, his eyes had closed in pure enjoyment and thought, and he had almost forgotten about his headache and churning stomach. His hands blindly grappled along the wall of the shower frame, finding the switch – accidentally turning it to cold so he jumped back in fright and blinked, groggily fumbling for the switch – ending the water flow.

Darren shook his head, freeing the excess water from his ears, and keeping his eyes closed as he slicked back his sodden mane, feeling for the shower door handle and confusedly reaching with splayed fingers, his pale hand searching.

Abby watched amusedly, and almost smiled at the performance in front of her eyes – realizing what the male was looking for and placing a towel into his hand, only able to see a blurred figure behind the fogged glass and was glad the steam of the shower hadn't cleared enough for her to see him that clearly – or him her.

The male sighed, bringing the towel close to his face and rubbing his pale skin against it, inhaling the soft musky scent of material and vanilla, briskly running the cloth over his shoulders and drying his blonde hair gently, wrapping it around his waist – glancing up when he saw movement ahead of him.

Abby shunned her eyes away, squeezing them tight;

"I just came in to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep – don't worry, I didn't see anything"

Darren let out the intake of sudden breath and sighed, ridding himself of most of the sudden fright, wrapping the towel more tightly around himself, moving a pace forwards so he could see his reflection in the mirror ahead of him and then speaking;

"Don't worry – I don't usually have a tendency for sleeping in people's bathrooms – or my own for that matter"

Abby smiled, rummaging in a drawer to her left – and letting her hands sort through the bottles of moisturizer, blusher and personals – sighing irritably and straightening from her bent position – opening a cabinet and fishing in it for a time – withdrawing with a tube and bottle clasped in her fingers.

"Ouch!"

Darren yelped as the stinging cream was put over the cut to one side of his face;

"I thought this was meant to stop the pain – not give it an energy boost" he muttered, raising a hand as if to rub away the cream that had come from the tube and having his fingers slapped, softly but sharply, away from the damage.

Abby stood beside Darren, her slender posture bent so as to rub the white lotion into the purple tinged cut, letting her hair fall to one side of her face like a golden curtain. She frowned playfully, grinning slightly as he spoke -

"not so tough are we Mr. Sanders?"

Darren scowled, looking briefly like an unhappy toddler with a pouting lip but forgetting the procedure as Abby turned and placed the cream away, shaking out several pills from the bottle.

"Don't seem like the popper type to me" he said playfully, ducking away as she swatted at him;

"Don't be silly, they're just to help you get over this hangover more quickly"

Abby handed him the pills, reaching for a glass as if to fill it with water but then stopping halfway, watching him as he dry swallowed the pills whole. The slight amusement and shock must have taken to her face slightly because Darren looked up at her from his stool and quirked his head to one side slightly;

"What?"

The female shook her head slightly – turning away briefly and tucking the bottle behind a tube of lipstick in the cabinet, placing the tube nearer the front and shutting the door.

"Nothing"

Her gaze came back to him, half admiring his slender – half naked frame as he amusedly ran his wet finger along the bench, drawing a small picture of a horse with the moisture that clung to his skin – rubbing it out with a hand and scowling as Abby spoke;

"Don't – Oh, pity – it was nice"

Darren snorted slightly, then noted that the girl wasn't being sarcastic – standing up and walking a few paces along the bathroom bench – tipping a can of aftershave on it's side between his fingers as if to read the label, placing it back down gently – and turning it so it's front faced forward – glancing back at her – his ice blue eyes taking to hers.

"Do you like my drawings?"

Everyone at the school knew about Darren's drawings.

They hung almost everywhere, shunning the plain carpet and wall paper – dark pictures of grasping trees, heavily lidded owls with sleepy bright eyes, sharp claws, glinting beaks. He was particularly good at making the opposites of everything – drawings of perfect peaceful elephants were changed by him when their tusks grew pointed and black, their eyes wild – mouth open in a roar, storming feet drawing upwards as though ready to rip through the painting and charge down the hall.

Opposite to it may be a dark coated witch, a stirring cauldron which one could presume some ghastly spell – but her face looked mournful, children could be seen standing at the dusty windows and peering in, teasing – offending the old lady who stood bent at the back and fingers with arthritis – scared of the fearful children who called her 'wicked' and threw stones at her – ready to drive her out of town when they were old enough.

"I think they're magic"

Abby said softly – her eyes sweeping and taking to his.

They stared at each other, his eyes direct – hers searching for something behind each pupil – as though trying to discover why this man was so different – so special to all the others.

He looked away, a smile at his lips;

"They are"

Abby slumped on her bed, and softly let her eyes swivel over the setting sun – taking in the great colors of red, yellow and gold.

"Come sit with me"

The instruction was presented to the male figure in the doorway. It was late now – and the two had done nothing rather then clean each other up and gradually fill in the time with talking, getting over the worst of the hangovers that the previous night party had left them with. He had not mention leaving, and she had not asked him to go.

Now the girl sat on the edge of the bed, changed out of the silk dressing gown and now into comfortable old jeans, one's that were faded and ripped ever so slightly at the knees – the hems of each leg stringing with age and wear. Her chest was covered with a flimsy white t-shirt, one with thin straps that held it just above her cleavage and flowed off her like silk, mixing with the clean locks of her golden hair.

Her hazel eyes revolved down the male's body, admiring the slimness and athletic legs, smiling slightly at the old shirt of her father's that he wore, and a pair of baggy dark jeans.

Darren's sleeves came past his slender arms, and were rolled at the cuffs slightly – as if to prevent letting them dangle lifelessly.
Around his neck as always was the scorpion medallion he always wore on a fine silver chain, and he fiddled with it slightly as he moved towards her – gently letting his weight ease onto the edge of the bed, only letting half of his side stay on it – timid for a time before relaxing and swinging a leg slightly to one side, tapping a rhythmic motion out with his bare foot.

"I'm surprised" he said suddenly, and Abby looked away from the window – her dark eyes against his, a look of confusion taking to her face;

"Sorry?"

"I said I'm surprised"

Abby frowned slightly, turning away again and watching as the sun sank lower;

"At what?"

Darren shrugged as if in mild surprise, lazily letting his feet dangle off the edge of the bed and then drawing back quickly as he accidentally knocked his ankle gently against hers, blushing for a moment;

"That you haven't asked me to leave yet"

Abby laughed quietly, and then was quiet – gently moving her leg ever so slowly towards Darren's, her bare foot gliding across the carpet as she spoke;

"I enjoy your company"

Their feet met, and Abby felt Darren shiver – with fear? Happiness? Desire? It was concluded when he turned to her, hesitating – moving closer and she took in his whole face.

The male had ice blue eyes they seemed to go on forever, his face was slender with high check bones and pale toned, a strand of blonde hair was flicked out of place at his forehead – the rest smoothed back into a sleek cowlick.

She watched as he drew closer, breathing in his clean scent – the faint smell of aftershave clung somewhere on his skin – possibly from holding the spray can earlier. She saw a few holes in his ears, near the lobe, as though they were pierced long ago and never healed up – despite the fact there was never earrings though the holes, a dapple of purple tinge had taken the scar on the side of his head – but the swelling had healed in gradually.

Both of them were surprised at how much damage a handbag could cause.

Darren went to lick his lips nervously – but did not have time to; his mouth gently placed against Abby's, their lips quivering and meeting – sinking into one another. At first the kiss was gentle; his just touching hers, before the female figure put a hand on the small of his slender back and gently pulled him into a heavier acquaintance. His tongue flicked gently to the corner of her mouth, lingering briefly and feeling hers touch his momentarily – before they both withdrew.

"I should go" he stuttered, and both were silent for a second – taking in each other's eyes as they had before; both blinking – turning away, trying to ignore the sudden impulse of desire that each felt just below their navel's.

"I'll give the shirt back to you on Monday" he said quietly, and Abby nodded. He cast his eyes over her, taking in her beautiful angelic features – one a model would pay thousands for and never achieve; her long blonde hair that coiled down her neck in loose kiss curls, her female outlines and curves, the soft roundness of her lips and her slender agile frame.

His hand reached out, and gently brought the fringe away from her face, she looked at him and he nearly collapsed with desire, longing for her – as he had felt for so long, and trembled – mouthing a word and then swallowing; drawing back.

"I should go" he repeated again, and finally Abby spoke;

"Why don't you stay?"

He awoke in her arms; and blinked – trying to recall the night before; inhaling her vanilla scent mixed with the faint smell of sweat between the sheets. He turned to face her – gently kissing her lips and watching her as she stirred, pulling away from him and rolling to the other side of the bed – leaving him without the duvet or her body.

His smile faded; and he began to take in what had happened, recalling her crying – him holding her, them kissing, falling onto the bed… he could barely remember any of the details, the night had been a mixture of heavy heart beats and suppressed screams of fear and passion.

He moved, edging off the bed and feeling his feet touch the carpet, pacing forwards and glancing back – half smiling sadly and moving away, standing on his creased clothes momentarily and then sliding his hands down his bony sides, feeling the heavy hollows and dents where flesh should be, pulling on the heavy jeans and loose shirt – hating the feel of unclean clothes and thinking about the prospect of walking home in a towel; just to rid himself of these burdened clothes – ones that seemed to bring back memories he wished he could erase – make them more heavily outlined more-

"Leaving?"

The voice interrupted his thoughts and he jumped, startled – turning to face the bed once more and seeing the naked figure of Abby pull the sheets just a little upwards so he could not view her woman hood so clearly as before.

"I have to some time"

Abby considered this, and shivered inside herself at the sight of him, as he ventured to turn his shirt in the right way – taking it off as he pulled the sleeves in and out the right way.

His wrists, despite the strong bone were thin, and looked as though she could snap them between her bare hands. His ribs stuck out oddly, and as her sight ventured to his back and caught sight of the marks on his arms she felt him blush – more out of embarrassment then anything else, watching as he pulled the shirt back on, bending the collar and trying to rid the shirt of starch that may it stand so straight.

"Your hopeless, let me help"

She arose out of the bed, the sheet falling to the ground and came to his side – making him turn to face the mirror as she stood behind him, straightening the collar – doing the buttons in the right order, pushing it in at the front and feeling the hardness of his pelvis as she tucked the ends at his fly, he caught her hand as she withdrew – and turned to face her.

She shuddered as she felt his fingertips circling her body, her breathing was steady and his was low – his lips gently rose up her nape to her jaw line, taking to her lips. He breathed more heavily as his fingers ran down her spine, up both her sides – feeling the soft flesh of her chest and her mouth on his.

He felt her tongue flicker between his lips and he pressed himself against her, pulling away just as she gave a gasp of pleasure, re-straightening the shirt and buttoning the collar for a second time.

"I have to go"

Abby watched as he left swiftly – not moving from her position, hearing the door unlock and a few seconds later close heavily, heard footsteps on the gravel drive and then for a brief moment his feet on grass, disappearing as she watched the figure walk away through the window, gone from her view.

Waiting - wanting him to turn and come back that minute – praying in vain until he disappeared entirely from sight and sound.

Abby collapsed on the bed.

Alone again.

(I understand this is nither finished, nor nvery good - but still - I do plan something good, very good - but this is just a little snipet I made up on the spot - nothing I could really be proud of but still, it'd be nice to know peoples comments, none to harsh - I have fragile little ears :-)