Basically my take on the musings of Judd prior to him and Pascalle. In third person because my crazy drabbley writing style doesn't lend itself well to first person.
It's something he's been working up to in his head for a while now – maybe longer than he'd like to admit – this concept of things that it's alright to want but never to actually have. Things you secretly covet, because the consequences of actually having them are unthinkable. It always the untouchable things you want the most, he knows that from experience.
It's maybe a small relief to think that the reason he finds it hard to reconstruct that uncrossable line is because he already took it down once, for Cheryl. And when he says 'small', he means it's really not a relief at all, because just because he already crossed it once – twice actually – it doesn't really change anything.
He can't say exactly when the line is crossed this time. There are multiple occasions where it might have happened without him fully registering where this was headed. Perhaps the moment where he realises there's no turning back now is when she comes out in to the lounge wearing that dress and his heart stops.
It hits him then, with a kind of warm shock; we're in trouble, here. The worst kind of trouble; the kind that makes him rock hard and not cause Mandy's pawing at his crotch either. That's probably when it happens, when the line starts to be pushed.
Not just by him either, because there's no way that dress – and God, what a dress – is for the benefit of Aaron fucking Spiller. She's toeing the line too, pushing it a little too far. For all her protestations, because 'Aaron's actually a nice guy' – and he is, he's not debating that – she's not convincing anyone. Not even herself. Especially not herself.
What is it Mandy says? 'She's gonna eat the boy alive'. He doesn't like that. Partly because he feels bad for a good kid like Aaron getting dragged into this shit. Mostly though, it's because it makes him think of her lips and her tongue and that line gets pushed a little further. So he drinks a little more and for almost one, tiny second, considers fucking Mandy to get whatever this is out of his system. Almost considers it.
God only knows, Ted would have something to say about this. But Ted's not here, because somewhere down the line of trying to do the right thing, Ted started hating him. Doing the right thing, it always pisses off the wrong people. Ted, Jethro, even Cheryl. Cheryl, who he's gone out on a limb for how many fucking times and she still doesn't give a shit. Nothing will ever mean more to her than those four kids, and he's okay with that, but he just wants to feel like he means something. So he tries his best to do right by them and by her and this is where he ends up?
They're not so bad all the time, though. Loretta, well she's complicated, but deep down she's not a bad kid. Lacking in morals maybe or just lacking in the ability to listen to her morals – or anyone else for that matter – he doesn't know. Still, when was she ever any help when it came to keeping the house in order? She's out for her own interests and no one else's. Not even Hayden's, most of the time, so what more can you expect?
Then there's Van, with a heart of gold, but sometimes missing the head he needs to keep his priorities in order. Trouble seems to follow him round too, like the plague, or the constant cloud of smoke trailing behind him. Still, he's got the heart, not like the others... Most of the others anyway.
And Pascalle? He doesn't want to get started on Pascalle. That's why he's downing one drink after the next, isn't it. To stop thinking about her and that fucking dress.
Actually, if he's going to be honest with himself, maybe that's not when he realises the inevitable, because yeah, she did look hot as hell, but there was always the chance to say no. Well, shit, there still is, as he's standing in the hallway, trying to fix the stupid fucking lock that causes so many problems in this house.
He hears her coming down the hall, but it's more than that. He feels it too. Really feels it. He hates that he likes it, because she's one of the untouchables and he knows, more than anything that it's not okay to want what he wants right now. He hates that – not being allowed what he wants – but that's life isn't it.
It seems stupid to ask why she couldn't sleep, so he doesn't bother. He already knows really, he's known for a few hours now, as he lay awake in his own bed thinking about nothing other than her. No one would be able to sleep with her in their head.
'I think we're gonna need..." He loses his train of thought a little more each time he looks at her. For just a second – the briefest second – he considers what would happen if he did what he's thinking about doing in some not so repressed area of his mind. What would happen, what would change?
Everything. It's the obvious answer. Everything would change. Maybe for the five hours they have until dawn, maybe it would be beautiful, but the sun has a way of ruining things. And how much would he be ruining with two steps – and she's so close that's all it would take – and a momentary lapse in judgement? Too much. More than he wants to think about.
He turns back to the lock.
She steps closer. Too close – or not close enough, it's too hard to tell now, with his head where it is. He can feel her breath on his neck and for a moment it's Cheryl there, years ago when she was untouchable too. The thing is, it's not Cheryl, it's Pascalle, who smells like slightly drunken heaven and feels warm, like a real live body which he hasn't felt in ages.
There's no real reason for him turning around, except that he wants to. It's sad really, he thought he was stronger than that, but this family; it's been wearing him down for a while now. He'd like to be bigger than he's being, but at the end of the day he's not. And she's everything, she's his type, but it's more than that that turns his head.
She appreciates him when no one else does, and it just feels so fucking nice to be appreciated. So he wants to, and he should have a better reason than that to ruin a girl's life, but he doesn't. He's all worn out, run dry of excuses not to have what he wants when everyone else is just taking what they want.
So finally, for the first time since Cheryl, he takes what he wants and it's beautiful for one night. But of course it was going to be; it's always the untouchable things that feel the best.
So I haven't done this kind of writing in a while, but hopefully it was enjoyable. It's the shortest thing I've ever written, so I'm going to publish it now to keep it that way.
If anyone does happen upon this, there's no need to review unless you desperately want to, this piece is purely for my own benefit because I've been obsessing over it a little too much lately and I need to get it out of my system.
Cheers for reading anyway,