kennedy street no. 5

Naslov sporočila: kennedy street no. 5 Sre Maj 01, 2013 9:27 pm

tag; river smitten

kennedy street no. 5 Tumblr_mlyc8kYbUp1qenkz9o6_250

she was tired. exhausted, really. she got in late last night, after another mission so every single bone in her tiny body was hurting. river wasn’t in bed when she got there, but she was too tired to even think about it. too tired to think about where he spent his nights when he wasn’t with her, too tired to think about the fact things haven’t exactly been right since she killed someone before his eyes. she blinked a couple of times, trying to come to terms with the fact. she killed someone. a person. ended their life. and she wasn’t even sorry. in fact, she couldn’t really remember it. all she could recall was this terrifying anger, blinding rage as she saw them together, and she just squeezed the trigger. she saw her father’s face then, remembering how much she hated him, for every beating he ever gave her. so she squeezed the trigger, and it was done. just like that. of course, she was on drugs at the time, so it might’ve been that. her mind was getting hazy, it took her longer and longer to get to it, but this morning she was surprisingly sober. rose sat up in their huge bed and reached for her phone. no missed calls, no texts. he was still avoiding her, and she debated for a few moments whether or not she should call him. in the end she decided against it and rolled herself out of bed and straight into the shower. the scalding hot water woke her up as she slowly rinsed out the remains of last night, and then wrapped herself in a silk kimono-like robe river got for her a few months ago. she made herself fresh juice and sat cross legged on the sofa, turning up the tv. the house was entirely too empty and quiet without him. oh god she missed him. she hated him and resented him for making her feel this way, so dependent on him, but at the same time she loved him so much it hurt. so in the end she just grabbed her baggy and fished out everything she needed. she was just about done rolling up a joint when the doors finally opened and rose slowly looked up from her task, like a child caught with a hand down the cookie jar and then slowly removed her mouth from the joint she was licking to seal. “hi.” her voice sounded small and she let her hands fall to her lap as she gazed out to him while he stood in the doorway. “where were you?” she sounded more sad than angry, like she already knew the answer and knew she wasn’t going to like it. sometimes she felt like they were stuck in this constant circle of lying to each other so they wouldn’t get hurt, which ultimately just ends up with both of them hurting, and then trying to make up for it. she uncrossed her legs and gave him a frank stare, as he made his way into the living room. she tried to ignore the effect he had on her, how much she wanted to just crawl into his arms and stay there forever and focus on the task at hand. they needed to talk.

Naslov sporočila: Re: kennedy street no. 5 Čet Maj 02, 2013 6:46 pm

tag; rosie srcek

Everything felt surprisingly well when they first moved to Philly. He soon found a job decent enough to provide for both of them and Rose, well Rose needed time to get her shit together. He was supportive of her and tried to comfort her each and every time she felt sick to her stomach for letting everyone behind, for leaving her father that physically abused her, for doing the right thing basically. But things got better, for both of them; at least that’s what he thought. She started going out, making friends and he was glad. He was thrilled she’d been doing better and he didn’t get all judgmental if she drank too much or, god forbid did anything even worse than just that. For him it all changed when he first caught himself doing things ... well, illegally. He was still this redneck boy, but he had a girlfriend to support and bills to pay so when things got ugly, there was no other way out, nothing else to really pick up to get out of debt. The last thing they wanted was going back to Arkansas where they’d possibly get shot by her psycho father, so whoring around for cash and deceiving old grannies was the only alternative he really saw. It seemed extremely hard at first, but after years of doing it, it just doesn’t feel any harder than filling up shelves in the market. And when something gives you total financial security you’re hooked. And he sure is; it doesn’t feel like job anymore, it feels like something he does just to fill up his free time, because they certainly don’t need more than what they already have – a beautiful home, bank accounts full of washed money and ... well, three cars.

Maybe the reason for doing what he does is so that he isn’t forced to watch her ruin her life day by day, but he still knows. He knows that it’s partially his fault that Rosie got herself involved with the gang. He knows she wouldn’t have done that if they simply stayed somewhere smaller, somewhere safer. He could still work as a mechanic and they’d live an average life, far from crime and cheating, far from drugs that she got way too familiar with. And with that in mind he rarely even spent the night at home anymore. So he unlocked the door in the early morning, hoping she’d still be fast asleep from drinking too much the day before, but she wasn’t. She sat on the couch with her hands full of weed, the smell of whiskey still present in the house. Why the heck couldn’t they live a happy life together when they basically had everything they needed – more than that? “You don’t want to know, Rose.” He only called her that when he was furious. And he was now. It’s not that he was perfect, far from that, but she knew he hated drugs. She knew he loathed it when she did it at home, and yet she rolled her joint in front of him, making it seem like nothing. “Just didn’t want to be home when you do ... your thing. But clearly you’re still not done.” God, he hated her for doing this to her beautiful self. But he loved her way too much not to gently kiss her forehead as he sat down next to her.

Naslov sporočila: Re: kennedy street no. 5 Sob Maj 04, 2013 9:27 am

tag; honey boo boo :3

She hated seeing that look of disdain on his face, especially when he looked at her. She knew it was the drugs, hell even she hated herself when she did drugs, but she only did them to forget. To forget about her father, about all the things she had to do, to forget about him whoring himself around… it was a vicious circle, and Rose had no idea how to break it. “Well, maybe I do want to know.” she said more firmly, and probably most lucid he’s heard her in weeks. She was on a downward spiral, that much she knew, but she just couldn’t deal with all the feelings trapped inside her. She flinched when he called her Rose, he never called her that, and the shock of it was enough to make her put the spliff down. Carefully, like it was the most precious thing in the world she put it on the coffee table, then wrapped her hands around her knees. She waited, like a small child waits for his parents to deliver the punishment, and she exhaled in relief when he came closer and kissed her. She would probably lose it, if he didn’t. Rose leaned in to him and buried her head in the nook between his shoulder and neck, her safe place, inhaling his scent. She ignored the remains of the night she could smell on him, he was still her River, and he came home. “I’m sorry…” she muttered, not really knowing what she was sorry for, she just knew she was. Or was supposed to be. “I won’t…” she tried to make her throat work but it was so dry. God how good would some whiskey feel now, or just a splotch of vodka. No, focus Rose. “I won’t smoke it if you don’t want me to…” It was the truth – or at least as close to the truth as she could get. Maybe she should add ‘now’ to that sentence, but River already looked furious with her. Well fuck him, she was too. “So, are we ever going to talk about it?” She asked, leaning back. Her mood swings weren’t as bad when she was sober, in fact she probably resembled the girl he fell in love with a bit, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still there. “You know, the bank? Me… doing what I did.” Funny how sometimes talking about it, was actually harder than the deed itself. When he brought her home afterwards Rose was terrified he was going to leave her. She was a murderer, this wasn’t what he signed up for. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, she just kept waiting for him to leave. Or not come back. But he always did, so after a while she relaxed a little, enough to try and talk about it, try to make him understand. She just loved him so much. “River I… I can’t deal with you doing that. Please, please can you just stop?” Her voice was small and she wrapped her tiny hands around his. “I don’t care if we’re poor, I can get us some money, some other way just… it kills me when you leave and… knowing what you do.” tears welled up in her eyes and she choked down a sob. “Don’t you love me? You said you did, and I just can’t understand how you can do that, if you do.” she bit her lower lip, trying to keep herself from falling apart, and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find some small comfort in that. He was killing her, and he probably didn’t even know it.

Naslov sporočila: Re: kennedy street no. 5 Sob Maj 11, 2013 5:34 pm

tag; rosie srcek

He seriously had enough of her. Enough of all the pretending, getting drunk all the time and smoking who knows what. She was drugged at least half of the time they normally spent together so all they really did was fuck each other senseless and then either fall asleep or argue. Things certainly weren’t the way they used to be, when they were this cute little couple against the world, or Bonnie and Clyde as they liked to call themselves. “God, Rose, stop, will you?” his voice went all high pitch when she back-talked. The only thing he disliked talking about were his clients, all the ladies he screwed for money, all the grannies he fucked around just so they included him in the will. Just so that he had enough cash for her. For Rosie to buy whatever she longed for so badly. “Talk about what?” he tried cutting her off when he knew really well what she had in minds. That horrible night when she killed one of his women, and no, he didn’t only care for the money. He actually appreciated Yvonne, the old brunette Rose shot, just as if it was nothing. “I thought we agreed on not dragging it any further. I mean, you did what you did. You killed someone and instead of taking you to the police, I took you home and we’re both guilty now. We really shouldn’t talk about it, Rosie.” Despite of all the bad stuff she’s done, he still cared about her. He cared about her well being, he wanted her safe and sound and he fucking loved her. If shit went down, he’d probably admit to killing the woman himself, but it’s been two weeks since the fundraiser, so he thought they had nothing to worry about. “And we both know why you did it. Because of that shit,” he flicked the joint she’d carefully put onto the table. He really hated her guts for doing that to herself.

Or maybe it was his fault too. If he wasn’t there, if he wasn’t Yvonne’s escort, she would have done it. Or maybe he was wrong, maybe it was their job to shoot as many people as they possibly could. Maybe she was just a cruel human being. Maybe she’d kill him too if they weren’t involved. “Me doing what, Rosie?” he looked up just so he didn’t have to face her. They never discussed his whoring around, but deep inside they both knew. But it’s not that he had a choice. If he stopped they’d slowly run out of money and they’d be poor again. Maybe they’d even be forced to return back home. Is that what she’d wanted? “Do you realize what you’re asking me?” he muttered out his fingers gently settling onto her jaw. Pulling her closer into his embrace he pressed his forehead against hers and all he really wanted was to kiss her. He loved her, but she could be so naive. “I do it for you. For us.” He couldn’t yell at her when she was about to burst into tears. But he couldn’t hug her either. He couldn’t kiss her until she still smelled like fucking weed and whiskey. “You know why I’m doing this. If I didn’t, we’d be broke. We’d be living on the road again, eating fucking Taco Bell every day again. And don’t you dare denying you’re the one leaving all that money down the drain most of the time,” he then pulled away as his veins started to pulsate in anger. “Drugs cost money, Rose.”

Naslov sporočila: Re: kennedy street no. 5 Sob Maj 11, 2013 9:28 pm

tag; honey boo boo :3

for the first time in ages, rose was scared. not of river hurting her, at least not physically. but of them. of what they were doing to each other. sometimes she felt like he was physically revolted by her, by what she did. but he didn’t understand. she needed the drugs, to help her. the pills to help her sleep, the dope to help her think. and the coke to get her up in the morning. alcohol? well that was just the cherry on top, to help her through the rough times, like these. fuck she wanted some vodka. it was in the fridge, she knew. just one sip, just one tiny little sip. she felt like he slapped her, every time he called her rose. nobody called her that, not really. she was always rosie. “I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry I did it, but… I couldn’t think, when I saw you with her. with that… whore, I hate her so much, I know she’s dead but I just….” she wasn’t making any sense, even when she heard the words. but she couldn’t describe the rage she felt when she saw river with that bitch. she followed his gaze to the joint on the table and shook her head. “no… that’s not why. I know it’s what you want to believe but… it’s not.” maybe she was sick. like seriously fucked up in her head. but she wanted to kill her, wanted her to suffer like she did. because river was hers, and that old hag got to touch him. kiss him. fuck him. and nobody got to do that but her. she sighed, blissfully when she was back in his arms, the only safe haven she knew and let her eyes close for a few seconds. maybe they would be alright, like they always were.

but then her eyes snapped open, at his words and she wretched herself away. “well I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up then!” she stood up and backed away from him. “god, I’m so sick of you always blaming me! you know full well you could find some other type of a job, if you want to support me, so badly. you’re just a… just a… whore. that’s what you are.” she spit out and stalked towards the fridge, her throat burning with need. her hands were shaking when she opened the fridge and got the bottle out, taking three long gulps. “are you happy now? you paid for this, was it worth it?” she sneered and put the bottle down with a loud bang. “go on river, I don’t even care anymore. go out, whore yourself to grannies so I can pay for my crack. hey, maybe I should do that as well!” she screamed, completely out of it. coming closer she let her robe fall apart, revealing her lace underwear. “would you like that? some old bastard, touching me.” she came even closer and stood in front of him, just out of his reach, letting her hand crawl over her stomach, up to her breasts. “I bet they’d pay for this, to touch me here.” she traveled downward over her panties. “and here, oh yeah, I bet they’d pay for this. to fuck me. then you wouldn’t have to. if I got high enough I wouldn’t even remember it.” she looked down at him with murder in her yes. “would you like that river?” her voice mean and harsh, completely unlike her, but she was painfully sober, vodka only just starting to sink in.

Naslov sporočila: Re: kennedy street no. 5 Pet Maj 17, 2013 6:09 pm

tag; rosie srcek

It seemed they were unfixable. Rose was completely out of control, killing people all over, ruining her life with drugs and alcohol, whereas he was trying to make enough cash so they could live a careless life. Something they obviously couldn’t with her being involved with the gang and him whoring around. It just wasn’t working anymore. She knew about his shit and he obviously knew about hers now that she’s killed one of his best clients. “I know you’re not sorry, Rose, and I know why you did it. I understand.” He just wanted to stop talking about this. She was long gone and no one paid enough attention to have seen them with her, so they were out of it. She just needed to shut her gob and forget it, forget everything, forget the woman he was with and realize women like that pay for their living expenses, for her booze, for everything pretty much. Long years ago she was his little girl, this perfect angel that had a hard time killing a fly. That girl he had to protect so her father didn’t beat her to death, that girl he fell madly in love with, but now she was changed. She wasn’t even a shadow of a girl she used to be. “I want to believe you’re a good person with a bad habit. I want to believe you can fucking change that and we can be happy again. I want to be happy. With you,” he murmured out looking down, feeling guilty for what was happening to them. For all the fights and misunderstandings.

“Don’t say that, Rosie. I do this for us,” was the only explanation he could possibly find. But she was right, she was so right. He really was a whore, he did things he’s never imagined himself doing before and he was so embarrassed he couldn’t even talk about it. Maybe it really was a time to stop all this shit and get a decent job, it would definitely help their relationship ... or at least he hoped it would. His eyes followed her as she stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka and chugged some of it down and he thought it was a real miracle it wasn’t him also. He could well drink a couple of those just so he forgot all the dirty games he has to play daily. “No, hell no. You did this on purpose, just to piss me off. I didn’t want to disappoint you, I still don’t want to. That’s why I do it. I’m afraid of what would happen to us if we had to go live somewhere else. I don’t want to lose you, Rosie,” he sobbed out not really sure of what to do with himself. He was kind of addicted to his job himself, it was more like a way of life now and all the cash ... well it certainly felt nice with all that cash on a bank account. But when he really thought about it, or when she made him think about it ... he wouldn’t like it either if she was the one doing it. “Oh god, stop it. Of course I wouldn’t be happy. Please just stop, you’re making me sick,” his hands automatically covered up his eyes when hers slid down to her underwear. Is that how he made her feel every time he returned home smelling like some other woman? Sick? Was that the case?