Uprooted (COMPLETED)

15| Turing The Page

Sierra's POV:

"Adoption."

Adoption? Adoption? How can I get adopted? The thought never occurred to me before.

"I'm seventeen, next year I'll be an adult. Wouldn't you rather adopt someone younger?" I questioned loudly, shifting under her touch.

"Family isn't just until you're eighteen." My family hadn't even lasted that long.

"I bet you get whiplash you go to so many foster homes," She laughed to herself then her face softened, "I want this to be your last house and only home."

"I just, I need some time to think about it," I stood up letting her hand fall from my lap.

"Of course honey, take all the time you need." I made my way upstairs before she called, "And Sierra? Blood doesn't make a family. Love does."

With that, I slumped onto the desk and began writing. Would my mom approve of finding a home? Calling someone else mom? I couldn't stop the tumble of worries and doubts, but that's when I realized not only would Stormie be my mom, but Ross would be my brother.

With a flourish of confusion I refused to let go of my pencil that could have burned holes in the paper from writing so quickly. Why am I wasting time, thoughts, and lines over a boy who only wants to melt the fence between us?

"Seeing how much you're going at that paper I'm guessing it didn't go well," Ross chuckled causing me to whip around to see him leaning against my bedroom door. How could I possibly tell him?

He walked towards me casually, his hands shoved in his jean pockets. "What are ya writing about in that book of yours now?" He smiled briefly. How could I erase that smile?

"You." I let my eyes rest on his lips that fell open then closed into a wider grin. "You're the one thing that's worth writing down."

"You speak in poetry, you know?" He paused and withdrew a hand from his pocket to scratch at the stray hairs in the back of his head. "Let me have a go at it," He paused for a few long moments to think, but his eyes continued to roam my face. "What about this? Sierra, you have pages filled with art that nobody can take their eyes off of, but I'd still be staring at you."

The more I looked at him, the more I felt awestruck at the man in front of me. It was like he was the whole damn alphabet and I was just a number. He extended his hand out to me to help me stand and I surprisingly let him. His arms coiled around my waist and blatantly stared. His voice became low and haunting, "I know I'm no good at this, but I'm reading every line of your face, each curve of your lips, all the words on your tongue and somehow you're the poem and the poet." He squeezed me tighter, my smile growing into a flower, "You're more beautiful than any poem I could ever write."

I couldn't speak, I just blinked up at him as if I had writer's block of the heart. He wrote his name in big, bolded letters on my paper thin heart and it wouldn't erase. It was as if plants began growing towards him and out of him and god, I've never been so in love. "You're a piece of work," I grinned wholeheartedly.

"Hey!" He loosened his grip around me and his mouth formed an exasperated 'o'.

I continued with a chuckle, "But it's more like a piece of artwork." He pulled me in closer, letting my head rest on his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. He planted a delicate kiss in the tangles of my hair and sighed happily. He was the warmth after the rain and the red in my veins and for these few wonderful seconds he was all mine. His touch played with the butterflies in my stomach, that only reminded me of the wrenching, gnawing feeling that I had to tell him the truth. I had intentions to explain it all, but my heart was set to change everything.

"Ross," I gulped at the feeling of his name on my lips and spoke into his shirt, "I don't know how my life is gonna turn out, but I want you in it."

"Me too," He let go of me and I had to curse and thank gravity for making me fall in love.

"So I have to tell you," I could feel my voice shaking. I smiled as I looked out my bedroom window at the strong, unwavering tree in the yard. The wind whirred through it's branches and leaves flipped away in the beating breath. Even that beautiful tree has a black shadow.

"What's wrong? What happened with my mom?" He clasped his hands around the stems of my arms.

A dry sob escaped my lips, "She wants to adopt me."

His mouth splayed into an open frown and spoke quickly "What? Why would she--? What? What happened? What'd you say?"

"Nothing yet, but--"

"Good. Then we're alright. We can just tell her no and," I stopped him.

Another sob forced it's way out, "Ross, I'm--I'm thinking about it."

"What!?" He exclaimed in betrayal. Suddenly, the butterflies in my stomach had moved to my mind and stung like bees. I mumbled 'I'm sorry's' under my breath, but I was sure he couldn't hear me over himself. His hands hid from me and stepped back into the wall. "What is there to possibly think about?! You'll be my sister! Don't you see that you'll be my sister?!"

"I know! I know!" I clutched and clawed at my hair, cowering away from him. I tried to show him my inner colors, but he was trying to paint over the picture. "I don't have a family, I have no one left. Try to understand I need a family. Just look at my past Ross, we're not built to last."

For a moment his voice was vulnerable and soft, "I don't care about your past, I just want your future." His fists clenched and began yelling again, "Can't you see that we need to be together?!" His body jerked away from me further.

"What if this is the only way we can," I cried loudly, my eyes blurred behind a wall of tears. "Ross, please!" I fell to the floor, legs crossed, slamming my palms against the wood which only surged with more pain. I closed my eyes to stop the impeding tears that would begin to fall. I wouldn't dare let my feelings show but I couldn't let him go. "I don't want to wait for love to destroy us," I whispered before my eyes drew open. I wanted, no, needed to go back before it all went wrong.

I wanted to tell him what I would feel without him, but my mind was empty and I couldn't have described it any better than that.

His scent never left, but he did. People always leave, but the way he left would always stay with me. "No!" I sobbed, "No." How could I accept that his role in my story was over? The urge to cry became chaotic, spilling powerful, burning tears down my Arctic skin. It flooded my thoughts and sinking heart. I curled up and refused to move from the damp floor despite that I knew even if I had broken legs I'd still chase after him. I couldn't tell if I was going to die from downing in my tears or from the words I'd been choking on. Somehow he broke the heart I forgot I had.

And not even the steady stream of liquid tricking down my face would cure my thirst for him. After all, I loved him.

Author's Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Rydel liked my tweet yesterday so I'm a happy girl. I know this chapter was an emotional roller coaster, but just bare with me a little longer. (There will only be a few more)

PLEASE: if I make a spelling error or grammar mistake please correct me in the side line comments! I won't be offended, I encourage it.