Uprooted (COMPLETED)

6| Shiver

Sierra's POV:

Ross followed me to my backyard, "Can we do your song thing later? I need a little time to myself," I dusted him off. I just needed a few moments away from the guy, some time to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.

"Sure, I'll work out the kinks and you can tell me whatcha' think later." Ross's smile was brief, but sincere and he left me promptly to myself.

I collapsed onto the soft bed of grass that squished slightly under my weight. In the distance there was faint growl of traffic, but it was just far away enough not to bother me. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and drew in a lung full of fresh air. The quiet chirping of a lonesome bird filled my ears and lulled me. While I only allowed relaxation for a few mere seconds it stretched out like a small eternity.

I heard the back door slide open, "Ross I told y-- oh hi." I propped myself up on the tree and he welcomed himself to a seat beside me. He groaned under his breath as he reached the ground.

"Hello," Mark bellowed as he took in my form. Something was different about him, other than he had come home early. His face turned towards me and the more he took me in, the more he looked like he had been wearing a deeply embedded mask. I twitched under his stare as I felt his chilled breath graze my face-- alcohol. He had a few spare wrinkles that let me see his every expression without a magnifying glass.

Then he began to smile, but it was just the corners of his mouth retracting into what he must have thought was a smile. It reeked of hidden secrets that I wouldn't wish on anyone. His mysterious eyes were still and hazed over with a cloudy, empty grey. Beneath sat blackness and a shady red rim around his frozen pupils. They appeared to have spent all of their days in perpetual shadow.

His voice trailed with confidence beneath the aid of Ross's guitar strumming in the background, but it was clear his mind was struggling with loud thoughts. "Shhhh" he brought his parasitic ivy of a thin finger to his lips and laughed to himself. Some lost bits of saliva traveled to my face and I almost wanted to cower away as if it was acid. Then he disappeared-- well he tried to-- he used the strong stump of the tree to give him a crutch off the ground.

With a few wobbled steps and the crunch of scattered leaves I knew I couldn't say anything to Ross or Stormie. It was not in what he spoke, but in the way his tired, lifeless eyes burnt at my exposed skin. Foster parents were always flawed as much the children they 'cared' for. This time I felt almost bad for Ross and a raw scab of empathy had uncovered. He needed a distraction.

I gathered speckles of pebbles that glittered the grass. I rubbed the small pile beneath my fingers and shouted up at his window, "Ross! Ross!" The rocks I had found added to the ruckus and clicked against the roof and window like the first drips of rain after a dry spell. "Ross!" I hollered, "Are you deaf or somethin'?" His music continued.

Pebble-less and out of breath I slunk back to the bulk of the tree and watched the sun invade the window closely as if that would make him suddenly appear. But it didn't. My gaze fell to my scuffed shoes and kicked at the dirt that littered their formal glory. A squeal sounded from above, the strumming had ceased, and I whipped my head up to the crack of the window. "What? What are you doing?" His features were blurred over behind the window.

"Come on! Don't you want to play for me, the music critic extraordinar? It's beautiful out here." My fingers scooped together moving back and forth to motion for him to come.

"Umm, it's kinda hot out there," he looked down at me and my surroundings.

"Don't be a baby! You want my world class opinion or not?" I spun in circle like a top with my arms dancing in the light to show it was harmless. "Come on!"

"Fine," he groaned reluctantly and vanished from my view. A minute later he stepped to my side, a mahogany acoustic guitar strung around his shoulder and back. "I'm telling you now, it's not ready, I don't know if will ever be."

"Just play." I commanded as we sat below the hovering tree. The heavy wood was satisfying to hear with rich and full tones of music. Ross played as if he was a slave to the damn thing. Despite the guitar's dullness in appearance, what Ross did with each cord was far from ordinary. The guitar sang to me and I wished I knew the soulful words to respond, but with no lyrics it continued without pause. Every sweet refrain beckoned for me to listen more, eager for the next note. I found myself bouncing my foot slightly off the grass to the rhythm he created by twisting his fingers, a sound that I somehow craved. The melody was hypnotic and soothing and we were both set in a trance. Ross must have been trying to be humble when he had said it needed work, whatever changed from the night before was breathtakingly euphoric. But of course I could never say that.

"So what'd ya think?" He struck his final cord with ease.

"It was good. Could use some lyrics." I dumbed down my thoughts entirely.

"Yeah, I just never was too good at saying what I wanted to say. You know?" For some peculiar reason I did. My writing had usually flowed out of me, but I knew exactly how felt.

Ross's POV:

"Yeah, I guess I do." Her lips curled upward in agreement. Somehow I found it hard to believe that she would ever struggle with such a thing.

I let my hands loosen around the strings and dropped it to the mush of green below us. Our eyes had met in a holding stare much like the one we shared on our first day, but she was looking into me, I just knew it. Her eyes. They darted around mine as if she was looking for the answers. But what was the damn question? They weren't heavy or coarse like when she had insulted me, but I had never seen them become soft, today was not an exception. They certainly were different than usual and shined like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun and sparkled like storm clouds before lightning strikes. They searched mine in clouds of grays and blue that threatened emotion. Her pupils dilated unwarily and cleared into a perfect spring sky and her mind seemed to clear too.

"Ross, I..." She trailed off, but never looked away. Her voice was low and quieter than usual. Her pink lips hung open like a budding rose. If I was daring enough I could just... No Ross what are you thinking? She's your foster sister... But she won't be forever...

Author's Note: I wanted to end off here, there's so much more that I can say, but I'll leave it for next chapter :) Also sorry it took so long to update!