., damaged

[Deleted]

PLAYING the part of doting boyfriend was easy when there was an audience. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame, returned her kisses, tangled her hair around his hand, smiled whenever she so much as looked at him. Even though he was nursing the hangover from Hell and steam was wafting up from his ears, he somehow managed to hit every mark. Their parents grinned, her sister rolled her eyes -- everything had gone back to normal in minutes. He was positive his mother would watch over them, she would question him later, ask what his intentions were to make things right publicly, but for now, he was in the clear. How long the 'clear' lasted depending on how the rest of the morning panned out.       INDIA grabbing him, pulling him through the house wasn't helping either his temper or his hangover. Right now, he wanted to walk slowly, preferably on his own without her attempting to drag him every where. But he wasn't going to risk yanking his hand out of hers with their parents watching. It would ruin everything he had done to make things right if he was already seen being antagonistic. In fact, he's fairly certain the walls have eyes and ears so he's going to attempt to keep himself in check regardless of how he felt, regardless of what he wanted to say and do. He was going to behave, he had to. For her sake and for their families sake.       AS soon as he has her nestled against his chest, he's trying to distract himself in the scent of her shampoo and not gag over the perfume. It wasn't so much that it was bad as his hangover was overly sensitive to everything. It would have been nice if his mother had let him do this 'make things right' thing tomorrow. He sighs, ignoring what she's saying because he really doesn't want to get into it with her again. He'd rather distract her, keep her focused on something else so he doesn't feel inclined to raise his voice again. She seems almost willing to let him do just that, but the continual prodding makes him groan -- and not in a good way. He's agitated.       LIFTING her out of his lap, he deposits her on the bed beside him and gets up to shuffle through his pockets for a cigarette. He doesn't speak or respond in any way until it's lit and balanced between his lips. He tries everything to keep himself organized, to sort through his thoughts so he can formulate an answer that didn't stoke the fire of an argument that could explode at any moment. "Yeah, I'm pissed," he's telling the truth, at least. "But that fight was stupid. We were both wrong, we overreacted, we don't need to rehash it." He avoids taking direct blame because he doesn't feel to blame.      TAKING a drag from the cigarette, when he exhales the puff of smoke he takes care not to blow in her face. He steps closer, using his free hand to tilt her chin up so he can get a look at the bruising. He did a number on her, but it wasn't that bad so it was okay, right? "Look, I'm hungover as fuck," which may have been putting it lightly, "So I don't want to beat around the bush, alright? I think we should cool off a bit. I'm not saying break-up, but maybe stop with all the heavy shit, yeah?" He needs his space, he's trying to do it without causing conflict, but she asked for the truth so he's trying to give it to her. "I think I'm gonna spend the New Year in Berlin and when I get back we can work on shit. I dunno. Go on a date or some shit."

[india santos]

-- She senses the enormous distance that's been placed between the two of them. Everything he said down there, about wanting to make sure she's okay, and loving her..was partially untrue. He had falsified his apology to please their parents; to appease everyone into thinking that everything was okay. In reality, in the reality their parents wanted, yes, everything was okay. But when they're alone, they both know that not everything is okay. Even India, who can be completely oblivious to things at times, knew that this was a moment where the reality was seeping through the fantasy they've created. And even so, it was breaking her heart even more to know that she was one half of the reason why things are so different this morning. -- The closeness of their bodies makes India tingle. She, in an odd way, loved the feeling of his body pressed against hers. In a way, it made her feel really tiny in comparison to his grandeur frame. She was lithe in frame, and average in height, but in comparison to Henry? She was tiny. The gentle touches are stark in comparison to the roughness Henry had last night. Thinking back to their fight, she knew that they were both in the wrong. She was wrong for hitting him. And he was wrong in hitting her back. She was scared of his actions for a second, and this morning, even when things weren't exactly made "right" yet, he seemed a bit more gentle, a bit more calm and more relaxed. Maybe it's because he drank the night away, or maybe it was because his mother demanded him to make things right. Then again, India's mom made sure she made things right. And that's what she was attempting to do, even if her attempts seem to be not working. -- The girl is displaced from the man's lap onto the bed, gently. This seems like a repeat of last night's events, as India watches the boy take a cigarette out of his pocket. Fuck, he's going to light it..again, in her room. Her mom hates the smell of the smoke, and she's asked him repeatedly not to do this in her room. An exasperated sigh is heard throughout the room, and she gives him a gentle eye roll. "Can you please not do that in my room? I don't wanna start anything, but if my Mom smells it, she'll kill me.", her tone gentle and low. She really doesn't want to start anything, and she just wants to get back in his good graces. But starting the morning with a smoke, on top of a hangover is not the way to go. She just wants to have a civilized conversation with her boyfriend, in the comfort of her own room. Without the smoke, that is. -- He's pissed. She's pissed. She's agreeing with him, and yet she can't even seem to be upset about the bruise that's been left on her face. She's upset about the fact that a simple misunderstanding turned into something bigger than what she had ever anticipated. The fact that they got physical with each other, was what hurt her the most. "I shouldn't have pushed you away. I'm at fault for making you mad. And I don't want to rehash it. I just think it's better to talk about it when you're semi cooled off. At least you appear it." she's still at the edge of her bed, watching his movements. She places her feet heels on the hardwood floors, and makes her way to face him. She's keeping the distance, but wants to make her presence known. If things are going to be this way, then she wanted to be the one making them this way. -- She's to blame for the unwanted tension. She's the one who caused all of this to happen, and she feels responsible for letting it get so out of hand. If she had abided by what he wanted, they wouldn't be here. She's listening intently to every word he says, every thing that comes out of his mouth. "You don't have to tell me. I already knew." She knew his hungover ways; as she's helped him cure them one too many times. "You want a break? Now, at the holidays?" The fact that he wants a break was reasonable. The fact that he wants to take a break at the start of the holiday season was beyond her. They've had more issues leading up to this fight than in the past, and she knows it'd help...but why now? "How are we supposed to tell our parents," her voice steady, "If they believe we've made up?" She closes in the gap between them, and an apologetic look appears on her face. A hand brushes over the partial bruising that's taken place on his rugged cheek, her finger brushing over it several times. "I'm sorry..." India closes her eyes, and places a kiss on the bruise. Things are definitely not the same between them. Not at all.

[Deleted]

FROM the day Henry had met her, India had been a box of contradictions in his eyes. He remembered the first solid memory he had of her, when they were just kids, way before he ever saw her as anything but a little kid. They had known each other for a few weeks, their families were planning the first charity gala. Back then they were just kids who were pushed to the side, hidden from the public because no one wanted to deal with rowdy little kids at an important event. Back then, it was Damon and Henry who had been pushed together because little boys were supposed to play together, get into trouble, chase after the pretty girls in skirts and throw mud in their faces. And India wanted to come along, but the entire time, she complained, wanting to do something different. He never understood it. Why demand to trail along with the boys if you hate what their plans are?       IT didn't change when they got older. The subject of her eye rolls changed, but the circumstances never did. He could remember the first time he smoked a cigarette; he was sixteen, standing in his backyard with her brother, puffing on the cigarette, choking as newbies typically do, and she sat back and tried to breath clean air. It wasn't until later that night that he found out she had ratted them out when she wasn't around. He hated her for it and had yelled at her the next time she came over, made her cry and avoid him for weeks. That hadn't really changed either. He still yelled at her, the only thing different was the context of the yelling. Now when he yelled, she would be visibly shaken, yet never actually leave. The context of her contradictions had changed too and he still didn't get it. If he was so bad, why did she stick around? There were other guys that would date her.       HE ignores her request to stop smoking, caught up in his own thoughts and... mostly because he was selfish. "I don't want to talk about it," he certainly heard that bit come out of her mouth. Selective hearing at it's finest. He has the briefest thought that maybe he should be apologizing, that he should plead with her and make her understand where is mindset had been last night. She should know what kind of asshole he was by now, but she seemed to be letting him get away with it without any kind of pleading so why should he lower himself like that? In his eyes, he was above pleading with anyone, even his girlfriend, even after physically hurting his girlfriend. "Can't we just move on?" That's his way of attempting to smooth it over without putting blame on either of them, but he knows it's not that easy, even when he says it.      SIGHING, he runs a hand through his hair and tries not to snap at her for the question he deems as 'stupid' in his mind. What did it matter that it was the holiday season? It was Christmas day and in twelve or so hours it would be over. "You know I love you, right?" He's not sure whether it's true or not. Half the time he's fairly sure he loves her, but the other half of the time, he wonders if he's just supposed to love her. It was hard to decipher any kind of feeling for someone when you had obligation drilled into you for so many years. He covers the hand against his cheek with his free one, letting out a puff of smoke away from her face, and pulls her hand away from him, with a gentleness that had escaped him the previous night. "I know," he presses a kiss to her knuckles before completely releasing her hand and returning his attention back to the nearly gone cigarette.      ASH had spilled onto her floor, a clear sign of his disregard for her family, but at least he was tossing the cigarette butt out the window to continue the conversation. He didn't dare put it on into her floor the way he did his own family home. He leans against the window once it's discarded, arms crossed over his chest while he considers his choice of words. "We're not breaking up," he shrugs, "we're taking a mental health day or so." He's too selfish to realize just how selfish is for even putting this on the table. "Call it a cooling off period or whatever. We can relax, get our shit together and when I get back from Berlin, we can pick right back up, yeah? No one will be any wiser. Don't you need a break?"

[india santos]

-- For as long as India could remember, Henry had always been a part of her life, in some way, shape or form. The earliest memories of her childhood had always included Henry. At first, it was Henry and Damon. Their parents wanted them to hang out, because they were the same age and it seemed fitting that two boys would get along. And as per India fashion, she always wanted to tag along. India had always wanted to be one of the boys, and had no interest in hanging out with Pixie and her friends. She had always been fond of Henry, and took an immediate liking to him. No matter how many times he told her to go away, or stay out of it, she always kept coming back to him. Back to the situation. He, was, in a way, always meant to be hers. They were always meant to be together, whether Henry or India could ever imagine it. Even as a young girl, India knew that they would be together one day. India had always fantasized about her first love, and of course, had always imagined her wedding day. And somehow, she always imagined it'd be Henry there by her side. -- India could remember the moment she found herself falling in love with Henry. It happened during the summer. The heat had been excruciating; the air was thick, and steamy. Sweat had been dripping off of every surface of both their faces; India's make-up was sliding off her face. Henry was sitting on the edge of the pool; shirt off, and legs dangling in the water. India's bare tanned legs were draped over his; bodies barely touching. She remembers the conversation, the brushing of hair out of her face. The subtle glances, and the steamy kisses that had been exchanged endlessly throughout the night. The sun was barely setting, creating shadows around their bodies. In a way, it doesn't sound very romantic at all...but for them, this was almost as perfect as perfect could be. The words that had been exchanged between them, the silence of the world around them, and the looks was just enough for India to fall in love. She looked at Henry in a way only someone in love could look at someone. She loved him, and she knew, in that moment that she was in love. And right now, that look has returned. Even now in the heat of the moment, she's falling in love with him all over again. -- He ignores her request to put the light out; as per usual. She's been over this with him numerous times: that her mother would kill her for having smoke in the house. That the maid would have to clean up the mess, and her father would ask questions. Even more than that, India hates the smell, and hates that her boyfriend feels reluctant enough to smoke it inside her room, of all places. In a way, India's agreeing with him. She wants to be done talking about it, but yet, she still has so many questions that need to be answered. Why did he get so mad at her? Why did he hit her? Why did she hit him? Of all people in the world, Henry would be the last person she'd ever want to be mad at her. She loves him too much to ever let him go. "Fine..I guess." She lets out a heavy sigh, an indication of her disapproval of his decision. This conversation just can't be over yet, not like this. Not when there's still so much tension between them. India needs to know all the reasons behind his anger, behind the distance that's between them. "I can't leave things like this...not when you're obviously still mad. Please, Henry." Her arms cross over her chest, and the girl lets out another sigh. She's pleading with him at this point. Pleading to let her fix things before he runs off to another country. Before she ruins things for them. -- She hates the thought of leaving things unsaid. She hates the idea of Henry leaving to go away just to get some space from his girlfriend. In general, she hates the idea of being separated from Henry, if it only be for a few days. But in this moment, she can still feel the massive amounts of tension that's been created between them. And even more so, she has never felt more loved by a man in her life. She knew he loved her, even if he, himself, would so often doubt it. For Henry, it was easy for him to casually say it. And even for India, actually. She had no problem letting those three words out, and it was genuine. She genuinely loved him, probably more than she should have. Her arms uncross, her fingers graze against his, before finally locking their hands in place. She steps in closer to the man before her, and lets her arms wrap around him. Her eyes lock with his baby blues, and flashes a sweet smile. "I know...and you know I love you right?" Her voice was sweet, and more genuine than anything she'd ever said to him. She loved him more than words could say, and she hoped that he knew it. One hand covers the hand that is already on his bruised cheek. In one fell swoop, the hand is taken away, and a kiss is pressed to her knuckles. Her eyes close, and she brings his hand up to her chest, closing in the gap between them. "I can't believe I let myself do that..I just. I can't." India feels a single tear fall to her chest, and almost instinctively, she lets a finger swipe it away. She can't be getting emotional right now, not on Christmas, after all. -- India had always imagined that New Year's Eve would be spent with Henry. At his house, drinking wine or champagne, toasting the year and talking about hopes for the New Year. She'd be wearing a stunning dress, hair all done up, with a handsome boyfriend on her arm. They'd sit close the entire night, and he'd kiss her as the clock struck midnight, indicating that the New Year has begun, and that all the shit that went down the previous year was in the past. They'd ring in the new year in his bed, and she'd wake up on January 1st in his arms, fresh, new. All the fights and drama behind them in the last year. And all of her imagines and hopes of spending New Year with her boyfriend had been washed away when he suggested that they take a break. She understands perfectly where he's coming from; but she's not exactly happy with it. She wants to be with him, and she wants to figure their shit out together. Not separately. Not in two different countries. Their bodies are touching, sitting beside the window. Her face is turned away, her eyes darting between him and the frame. She's not happy about this at all. "You really want this break don't you? I mean..I get it. But why go through the trouble of jetting out of the country to take time away from each other?" She's hesitant with her words, careful of what to say. "You think that when you get back from Berlin, we'll be able to pick back up? Will we ignore the fact that all this happened? Will it be better between us? What are you wanting here, Henry?" She realizes what a dumb girl she's being, but the relationship is at stake here. Her relationship that she's worked so hard for is on the line, in a sense. And he wants to put it on pause so he can go party with his friends in Berlin? Typical. -- The girl takes his hand, and pulls him to the window seat next to her. She drapes her long legs across his legs and pulls herself closer to him. One arm drapes over his neck and back, and the other rests on his chest. She tugs at the shirt, while her other hand scratches his back, calmly. She's trying to collect herself, and think about the way to answer his questions. Sure, she could use some time away from him, but still she's confused about how this could even possibly help them. Maybe it could help her to have time away from him to realize what he actually means to her; to redefine their relationship. It could help them revive the passion between them, and settle the things that they've been battling on their own. In a way, India understands what he means. She gets that everyone could use mental health days every once in a while. She knows that, even after their blowout last night, she could use a mental health day or so. But she can do that from the comfort of her own home. She could schedule to have a massage, or go on a shopping trip with Pixie. They could go to the beach and just relax, and enjoy the weather. Spend a few days apart, and cut out the texting, cut out the phone calls. Why does he have to travel all the way to Berlin to settle this? India lets her head relax on his shoulder for a second, before raising it to look at him in his eyes. She sighs, and lets a tear fall out of her eyes. She snuffles, and wipes away the tear with her free hand. "I'll miss kissing you at midnight." She whispers in his ear, as she closes her eyes, and places a hand on his neck. Her other hand grazes the back of his neck, and runs a hand through his hair. She lets her lips graze against his for a second, before letting them touch and places a few kisses on his lips. India breaks the kiss and smiles at him, "Who will kiss me like that on New Year's Eve?"

[Deleted]

WITHOUT even looking at her, he knows when she's caved. He can hear the heaviness in her voice, practically feel the sigh across the room and the tension boil. He's not doing either of them any favors by staying silent, but he doesn't have anything to say. He's said his piece and there's not much else to be said -- not in his opinion, anyway. He knows she's going to ask questions, push the subject, try to convince him that he's making the wrong decision or, perhaps, that he's being hasty in his flying out of the country. Despite their problems, he knows the girl like the back of his hand and can practically predict the words she'll use in her attempt to sway him, the pout to her lips and the slight lean of her frame when she slings her arms across her chest, the picture of defiance.  He doesn't bother paying attention with the words actually leave her mouth, a slight crook to his lips the only indication he heard her speak.       THE hug tugs him out of his concentration on cigarette, a scowl crossing his face when he has to toss it out the window to avoid burning the girl. He may have hit her, he may sling vile words at her and push her into situations she hated, but he wasn't a monster, right? He was going to have to learn to control that temper if he didn't want everyone around them to figure out how bad things had gotten between them when they were behind closed doors. He can see the emotion swirling in her eyes and he knows what that means -- he needs to keep calm and collected, not instigate and make her more upset than she already was. "India... Stop. Talking. About. It." He tried to keep his voice level and restrained, but he didn't want to discuss the color staining his cheek or the fury she roused in him. "You need to take a deep breath and relax." Advice he should consider taking more often.       SHE'S questioning his decision to take a break again and all it elicits is a roll of his eyes and a soft huff. He can't wrap his head around why she doesn't understand, he can't figure out why she's so desperate to keep him tethered to her side when they've just had a blow-up fight. Shouldn't she want some space? Shouldn't she want him at arms length? Somewhere she didn't have to look at him or talk to him for awhile? It would have been easier for them both if she simply let go -- he was sure of that. Surely even their parents would understand, right? "I told you what I wanted -- space. Just for a few days. I want to go with some friends to Berlin, get wasted without worrying about this shit hanging over our heads."  He pauses, softening his voice, reeling back from the selfish motives he had already presented. "You need the time with your girl friends to relax and blow off some steam."       THIS time when she snakes herself around him -- on him -- he doesn't immediately pull away. It doesn't matter, every time he retreats, she simply waits for an opportunity to sidle closer once more. One arm slides around her waist to support her while the over rests lazily over her legs, playing with the hem of her skirt without putting much focus on the action. He's disconnected from the moment because his mind has already left the room, considering what lays behind the Santos Manor, mentally planning his trip before their conversation was even over. He was selfish, he knew he was selfish, but he had always been this way, surely she didn't expect him to change his mind because she wanted him to?       NOTHING else could have dragged his attention back to her the way her lips on his did. He wasn't changing his mind, but he was still a guy and a girl in his lap, kissing him, was sure to pull at his attention. He cups her cheek and runs his thumb over the arch of her jaw, returning the kiss as long as she allows before it's broken and she's talking again. He should have known it was a tactic. He rolls his eyes, dropping his hand from her cheek and running his hands through already messy hair. "I'm sure we can make up for your New Year's kiss when I get back," he presses a kiss to her forehead before leaning away from her to get a better look at her face, to ensure that she could see the seriousness of his expression. "I'm not trying to be a dick here... but you're not going to get me to stay. I need to go."

[india santos]

-- FOR AS LONG as India could remember, Henry had always been "the one" for her. He would always be the boy she'd go back to. He'd always be the boy she'd wanna be with. He'd always be the boy she'd love. She knew that, despite their problems, they were truly meant for one another -- despite their parents urging, and the looks and the stares. She knew that despite all the hate they got, and the words they would throw at each other, that somewhere in there, between all the shit, they truly did care about each other. India knew that she loved him, 100% of the time, even when he would hit her and toss vile words at her, she loved him. And she also knew that, despite all of the hateful things he did to her and the way he treated her sometimes, that he also loved her. India knew that the only person who could rightfully ever complete her, 100% was Henry Schwartz. And they've been this way for years, and have known each other since birth. Their relationship, at this point, was at a halt and there was, ultimately, nothing India could do to salvage it. NO MATTER HOW much she protests against his words, Henry is not changing his mind. She can fight it all she wants, but she knows that the moment he walks out of her door, he's gone until the New Year. In all honesty, this break will be healthy for the two of them. Since the day they started dating, they haven't spent more than two days apart from each other. They saw each other every single day at school, and would be with each other after school. There was never a day that went by that Henry wouldn't be at arms length. He would never stray too far away from her grasp, and to be honest, that's exactly how she wanted it to be. India, in a way, was used to having Henry around. If he weren't around, what could she stand for? Who would she be without her boyfriend draped by her side? India liked the title she had, and even more so, she liked the title she had with Henry. He gave her something that she always wanted, and if that were taken away, people would talk. And India hated it when people would talk - even if it were almost always about her. Ever since the two began dating, India became the talk of the school, and more importantly, the talk of the town. SHE KNOWS HIM like the back of her hand. She knows what makes him tick, and what makes him mad. She knows, even more so, that right now, he doesn't want to hear anymore come out of her mouth. He's said his peace, and if he wanted to be done talking about it, that's what she was going to give him. Her arms cross, and her gaze sets away from him, from the scene. She takes another heavy sigh, and braces herself for what's about to come out of his mouth. He's done with the issue, and even if she was going to let it go, she wouldn't forget anything that happened the night before. She couldn't bring herself to do that. Telling her to relax? Shouldn't he do that himself? "Can you please take your own advice?" She lets herself relax, and takes another deep breath in. Her hands have stopped shaking, and her body becomes relaxed. No matter how much he angers her, and pisses her off, nothing calms her down quite like Henry. His presence alone makes her the most calm she's ever been; but, on the other hand, his presence also does much more damage than it does good. And she can't stay away from him.  HER MIND BEGINS to wander. She's thinking about who he'll be spending New Year's Eve with. Will he kiss another girl at midnight? Will he sleep with another girl? Will he not even think about India at all? India knows that he'd never cheat on her, and even though she's been warned, she trusts her instincts, and she trusts him. She knows that he would never try anything with anyone at all, even if they were on a break. Though, she knows, and everyone else around them, know that a break is the absolute best thing they could for one another. He was correct: he needed his guy time in Germany, away from India. And on the flipside, India just wanted time to be away from him, to recuperate and reenergize before dying back into their relationship. She knew, or at least hoped, that by the time they were back, they'd be "back" to the flirty, sexual, cozy, seemingly-normal Henry and India: the "them" she loved. "I get it. You need your guy time." her voice is shakey, again. But her composure is kept. She's tight-lipped, but admittedly, she's into the idea of him being away for a few days. "I know. I guess it'll be good for us." THERE IS NOTHING in the world that compares to the feeling of Henry's lips on hers, his hand on her neck. There is, if anything, an undeniable passion between them. They attracted each other, and when they were kissing, sparks were so flying. India got lost in the moment, wanting it to further. But, she had limit it. She didn't want him to move it further, she knew that wasn't what was completely needed for their current situation. He pauses, and the hand breaks away from her face. She sighs, and looks down at her hands, fidgeting with the loose material of her dress. "Lots and lots of kisses?" she emits a slight giggle, and takes his hand in hers. As Henry presses a kiss onto her forehead, her eyes close and she lets herself enjoy the moment. Though there were few, the moments when Henry showed an ounce of tenderness towards her were the moments she loved him the most. She lets her legs fall off of his lap, and pushes herself off the seat. She adjusts her dress and leans her body in towards Henry's. She knows this is it. "I know. I hate saying it..but I'll miss you." And it was true. She always missed him when he was away. And this was no different. India lets her arms drape over his neck, and once more, she presses a small kiss to his neck. She rests there for a second, before pulling away. "Go please. I understand why."

[Deleted]

WHETHER it was true or not, all he needed to hear was that she understood. As he deposited the girl off his lap and stood to adjust his clothes, he took a side-ways glance at her, taking note of any amount of falsehood in her words. Not that it matted -- he just needed to know what he would come home to, how much he had to work to make things line up the way their parents so desperately wanted them to. And perhaps, partially because he cared. He just cared more about himself than he cared about her being disappointed in him. He was a fool, but it doesn't halt his steps as he strolled out of her home, casting his mother a smile an assuring all that their romance was as perfect as it could ever be.  01/01/2009; 12:01 AM           HIS lips press into the lips of a girl that's not his girlfriend, his hand's on her hips practically bruise with their desperation to keep her close. He's aggressive, as he is in every aspect of his life, but she doesn't protest. She encourages his behavior because he has money. He knows that's the sole reason she indulges him. He'd wrapped a bracelet around her petite wrist and she had immediately swooned -- either German girls were easy or the liquor in his blood was obscuring his perception of the events that took place. He should care more that he doesn't know what she's muttering in her native tongue or that he could have sworn she was a blonde when he tugged her into his room. When did she suddenly become a redhead?  01/01/2009; 10:58 AM           THE hangover from Hell assaults his every sense, tempting his temper with every passing moment that he's not sound asleep. The last time he had woken up had been just after sunrise, he had thrown a fit and demanded his bed partner bring him Aspirin and water, give him a blowjob, and then get the fuck out of his room. She complied and he went back to sleep. This time he didn't have anyone stupid enough to be in his immediate space to take his aggression out on. This time it was his phone, going crazy, demanding he answer it or it would simply go off again as soon as he fell back asleep. It was his mother, as usual. Was he completely incapable of having a single hangover without her screaming in his ear? She demanded he returned home, he agreed. Grudgingly.  01/11/2009; 7:50 PM           THOUGH he was going to return on his own terms and that meant "accidentally" losing his phone before spending another week wandering around Berlin, getting drunk and doing whatever he damn well pleased. By the time he decided he had tempted fate enough, it had been over a week and he was almost positive that his blood was pure liquor. At least he had that to show for his trip. Not that it did a whole lot for his temper or his romantic drama. The second he got in the plane, his heart started beating faster and his knuckles turned white with the effort to keep from throwing something, anything, at a window. He knew when he returned, everyone around him would lecture him for leaving for so long, especially the girlfriend he lost contact with for nearly two weeks. Yeah, he was a royal asshole, but why did they have to remind him?       SO during the excessively long flight, he formulated a plan, one that involved reminding India of what he had said before he left without dredging up drama he was desperate to avoid. He made reservations, he arranged for a driver to pick her up, he even sent her an expensive dress and jewels to match. If he pampered her for an evening, wouldn't that make up for it. The tight dress probably wouldn't earn him any favors, though -- if her parents even let her out of the house wearing it. The thought of ticking her parents off with something so flimsy made a smirk crook his lips and almost made him laugh. It probably would have if he was sure he wasn't still partially drunk. Or hungover. He wasn't quite sure which, yet, but he'd make it better anyway.       THE moment he landed, a car took him to a restaurant in Beverly Hills. A long drive for her, but his pounding head and jet lag wasn't going to enable a long car ride for him tonight. Reservations were at eight pm, he ensured she would get there by then, unless she decided to leave him hanging, which he figured was a fifty-fifty likelihood. But he waits, patiently, or as patiently as possible for someone as impatient as him. He fumbles with a phone he had brought with the car, redoing his settings and installing apps to check in with the people he hadn't spoken to in weeks. Everyone except his parents, anyway.

[india santos]

-- AS HE MAKES his exit out of her bedroom, India begins to process what just happened in the last 14 hours or so. They had gone from completely fine, to downright nasty to each other, to somewhat civil and to this: leaving each other for two weeks. In her mind, the thought of taking a few days apart was rightfully needed. The thought of Henry being in a separate country for that amount of time was something that she hadn't quite wanted. But as per usual Henry fashion, he wasn't going to let India protest against his wants and needs. He didn't wanna hear her reasoning behind why she thought it was a ridiculous idea. She wasn't allowed to argue with him, nor did he want to hear her urges to get him to stay. His mind was made up that he would be spending his new year in Germany with his friends, and that she should do the same, here in California. And as much as she hated the thought of not being with him for New Year's Eve, she knew that, mentally, she needed the break away from Henry. -- THE LITHE FRAMED girl gathers herself up from the window seat, and lets herself adjust in her dress before taking a step towards the mirror. She fixes the smeared make up around her eyes, and blots the red lipstick from her lips. She brushes out her hair with her fingers, and pulls the dress away from her body. She takes a few heavy breaths before turning out the light into her room. If she were going to have to rejoin the celebrations downstairs, she would have to put on a brave face and act like everything was fine between herself and her doting boyfriend. Everyone was expecting things to be fixed and to be fine, and if they wanted to see that they were, she would have to show that. Even without her boyfriend present. India knew well enough that their families wanted them to be together, and there was more than enough pressure on them to be just that. But every couple needs a break every once in a while, so what's the difference between them and others? Closing the door behind her, she makes her way down the hall and onto the steps. She can hear the conversation flowing through the house, and the smell of Christmas dinner being prepared from the kitchen. India makes her way into the family room, rejoining everyone -- but Henry. She flashes the families her grand white smile, reassuring that everything was fine; despite the fact that they were spending their New Year's apart. 01/01/09; 12:00 AM -- HANDS PRESS AGAINST the brunette's body. These hands belong to a man who isn't her boyfriend. He's pulling her close, and she's letting him press kisses into her neck. The clock strikes midnight, and as the course, she allows him to kiss her. She allows him to kiss her again, and again and again. She's kissing someone who isn't Henry, and for once, this guy is being gentle. He's holding her tight, but bruises aren't being formed along her frame. He's a good kisser, and he's attractive, but no one will ever compare to Henry. Champagne is flowing around the room, and they're exchanging glances, in between the kissing and the tugging. And although she's enjoying this, the whole, being away from Henry thing and kissing another man, but she can't help but think of Henry, and who he's kissing and what he's doing. If he were here, they would be moving to the bedroom. He'd want to bed her, get her out of her dress as fast as possible. And this time, she'd allow it. But he's not here, and this man is here. And she's loving it. She's being treated as a princess and she knows that the only thing this guy wants is to make her feel as comfortable as possible. But having sex with a complete stranger is just something she's not wanting right now, so she returns the last final kiss and finds her girlfriends. They exit the large manor, and head for the beach..a traditional New Year's Eve for her and her girls. 01/11/09; 11:32 AM -- IT HAS BEEN nearly two weeks since India had heard or seen from Henry. She had promised to take some time off from him, to cool down and relax. She had taken that time to get reacquainted with friends that had witnessed their blowout fight. She had let herself relax with trips to the spa, and endless amounts of shopping. She knew that she would need this break before classes began again, and even though she wanted Henry to be here..and despite the fact that she truly missed him, India knew that the time apart was healthy. Though, her mind did wander to think about who Henry was doing and what he was doing. She wanted him to be honest with her, no matter what happened. And she knew, that, eventually he'd make his way back to her. He stated before he had left, that they'd do something once he returned to the United States. Henry, although everchanging, usually kept his word. India wouldn't press him about anything, afterall, this was the new year. They had plenty of time for future arguments, and who was she to break the cycle? All India wanted was just some kind of confirmation of his arrival, some word from him, anything. -- THE SUN PEEKS through the grand windows in the center of the bedroom. Her tanned skin glows from the rays, and casts shadows across the wide room. The brunette is basking in the sunlight, enjoying the last day of winter break. She'd be returning to school the next day, with, hopefully some decent news to share with her girlfriends. India lets out a yawn before pushing herself off the bed, a hand pushes the covers off her body. Bare feet hit the hardwood floors, causing a shiver to run down her body. She tosses her clothes to the floor, leaving a trail behind her. She closes the door to the bathroom, and begins running hot water for her bath. Once the water is filled to the brim, she slips her body into the boiling bath. India had always loved baths, and even more so, today. It seemed like, the perfect beginning to a perfect last day of break. There was nothing she loved more than spending a good hour in a hot bath, and nothing made her feel more relaxed than a bath. And after the last week and a half that she's had, this would be the ultimate "recovery" treat, especially if she was hoping that Henry would be making his way back to her at some point today. -- THIRTY MINUTES PASS and the girl pushes herself out of the bathtub. She grabs the white robe and drapes it around her tiny body. Grabbing the towel, India wraps her hair in it and dries off the rest of her body. She pushes open the doors to find a note left on the bed. The envelope has her name written, in cursive. Next to the envelope, she sees a large box. The girl makes her way to the bed, and grabs the envelope. She carefully opens it, and reads the envelope. It's a note from Henry, stating he'll be returning to the states this evening, and to meet him at Spago restaurant in Beverly Hills, wearing the dress he's picked out. This was surely his way of making everything up to her, and if this was what it was going to take to get their relationship back on top, then this is what she'd want. She didn't care where they met up, or what he looked like, or what she was wearing..as long as they were together, that's all she wanted. And if he threw in a dress or something, she wouldn't dare deny that. Her eyes drift to the box, and immediately, she tears open the top. She picks through the tissue paper to find a tight, short red number, with a jewelry set to match. He sure did know what looked good on her, and what looked good off her. 01/11/09; 7:50 PM -- LONG TANNED LEGS peek out from the short length of the dress. Her feet are adorned in basic black pumps, that acentuate the girls legs. She's wearing the slinky red number, with a black pea coat on top. Underneath, she has on her best black and lacy La Perla set, just in case. Her neck and earrings are dressed with the jewelry sent to her by Henry. India's spritzed her favorite perfume on her neck, and her arms. Her long brunette locks are draped around her shoulders and back, just the way Henry liked. She pulled out all the stops for tonight -- as she wanted what Henry wanted, finally. If all of this meant that he'd wanna take her to a hotel, or that they could finally be back to normal, she would do anything he wanted. She knew that one Henry saw her looking like this -- sexy, then surely he'd take her back right? I mean, this was part of the plan, to get her back and make sure that everything was fine between them. So if this meant bedding him, and giving him what he wants as well, why not do that? The girls heart is beating fast, and her palms are sweaty. Her stomach is churning, and she's nervous. India hadn't been nervous around Henry in ages, and for some reason, tonight, she feels just like she's thirteen again. -- THE CAR COMES to a halt, indicating that they've reached their destination. India lets out a deep breath, and collects herself in the car. She grabs the black clutch, containing her phone and lipstick. She takes out the lipstick and applies one more coat of red lipstick to her dark lips. The door opens in front of her, and standing, waiting is her handsome boyfriend. She flashes a huge smile, and a second to the driver. She gives him a slight tip and regains her balance. She buttons up the front of her pea coat, and begins taking a few steps towards Henry. He's dressed in his best, and things feel just the same. As she approaches the boy, she tugs at his shirt and pulls him close to her body. "Hi..." and as the words come out of her mouth, she presses a kiss into his lips. She lets her arms drape around the back of his neck, with one hand playing with the ends of his hair. The other hand presses against his chest, maintaining her balance. Feeling herself get more into the kiss, she lets herself back up against the wall, taking Henry's hands and letting them rest on her waist. She's willing to let the kiss go on for as long as they both allow. She's in heaven, and she can't deny that no one kisses her the way Henry does. If things could stay as good as this was right now, she wouldn't wanna ever come down.