comment of the chapter: @barrettspillow: I'm not trying to be a suck-up, but I really like this story because it's more than just a fanfiction. They say that what you write (songs, stories, or whatever suits your fancy) expresses your inner self. So maybe you've got Demons by Imagine Dragons.
I just really love this comment :) <3
previously in blinded..
The battle inside was a raging fire that was blazing through the night. No amount of water could put the flames to rest, but the waters weren't calming. They came stronger and more determined to cease the heat.
I just wish that it would rain again; God was in the rain.
"God is in the rain," I muttered to myself, silently listening to the distant shocks of thunder. "He is in the rain." I whispered.
seventeen in the rain [part two]
Sophia.
"V for Vendetta, is it?" He asked nonchalantly before dropping himself on the couch, "When Evey stands out in the rain, those were the words she said." He popped his gum, "Am I right?" Ed asked humorously.
"How did you know?"
"It was the worst movie ever made."
I scoffed, "Have you ever thought that maybe you just couldn't understand its brilliance? That movie deserves every award there is out there." My heart started pumping on adrenaline as I defended my favorite movie.
"It came out in 2005, Sophia, how did you understand its brilliance," he mocked, "You were a year into your teenage life."
I knocked my thumbs together, "When you listen to movies, you understand them in a whole new light. I'll never be able to see the Guy Fawkes mask he wore, or the dance he shared the night of his revolution, but I heard the words he spoke, and why he was doing what he did. Reasoning is the best entertainment of them all."
"I just liked the fighting." He laughed, "Isn't it a coincidence that I disagree with most of your favorite things? To Kill a Mockingbird, this movie, what's next, is your favorite song by an artist I dislike?" He joked.
"There are no coincidences, only the illusion of coincidences." I said, quoting V.
We slipped into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the faint sounds of traveling cars and distant voices.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, "We've been at the rec since twelve and its quarter to eight."
I nodded, "I'm starving." His hand hoisted my body up and led me to a small sitting area. When I was sitting on the island stool I heard him open the refrigerator.
"I think I have some leftovers from a day ago, you don't mind do you?"
I shook my head.
I listened as he put the Tupperware on the countertop and sort them into plates. He microwaved them seperately, and within five minutes a plate of food was sitting in front of me.
"My masterpiece of local Chinese food!" He exclaimed and placed a fork in my hand. His body nudged mine as he sat on the stool that was next to me.
I thanked him and took a forkful of the food in my mouth. Soon enough, I was shoveling more and more feeling how hungry I actually was. I inwardly laughed when I heard how fast his utencil hit the plate, "I win!" he chimed.
I knit eyebrows together as I took another bite, "We were racing?"
"Oh, I thought that's why you were eating so fast."
I laughed softly, "I was hungry."
"I still won." He said chuckling.
He sat with me while I finished and made small conversation, "When last have you been to your apartment?" He asked.
"It'll be two weeks in a few days."
"Is that why you didn't want to come here, you miss it?"
I nodded, "I feel safe there. I know how to maneuver around the furniture, I know where everything is; I just know where I am. I don't like new places." I admitted.
"But when you don't visit new places you live in a routine and you'll never be able to feel something different." He picked up the empty plate in front of me, "New places aren't that bad."
I shrugged and thought of myself right now. I wasn't extremely uncomfortable here with Anna, but I wasn't fully happy about it, "I guess its who I'm in the place with." I said softly.
His steps came close, "Anna," he stated and helped me off the stool, "You really trust her don't you?"
I shrugged as he led me somewhere, "Not with everything, but her judgement is important to me. I was kind of forced into trusting her with that because she was hired to take care of things I couldn't."
"She's your eyes."
I shook my head, laughing, "Far from it. Where is she anyway?"
He opened a door, "She's in the spare room, when we finished clearing out Harry called and she kicked me out and started arguing with him." he said humorously.
We entered a room with a strong alcohol scent mixed with sweet cologne, "I thought you said you only have one spare room?" I questioned.
I was seated on a bed, "I do." He answered.
"So where am I?"
He laughed, "My room. Anna already claimed the other as her domain and it's a small bed. Instead of making you share a bed, you'll be staying in mine."
"Where are you staying?"
"On the couch, where else?" He spoke, "The blankets are higher up by the pillows; there's a bathroom in this room, its exactly eleven steps to the right of the bed. I checked."
I smiled, "Thank you so much Ed."
"Don't mention it," He said, the smile obvious on his face, "Are you tired? We can go back to the living area and watch some tv?"
I nodded, "The second option." I stood up alone, but was led out by him. He sat me on the couch again.
"We're going to watch one of the greatest American show ever made." He said and sat next a few inches away. Within a few minutes the small opening jingle of a foreign show started playing.
"You get the best of both worlds! Chill it out take it slow, then you rock out the show!'
This was going to be a long night.
*
"I still don't get it!" I exclaimed.
"She's only famous when she wears the wig! When she doesn't wear it she's just Miley." He said in frustration.
"But can't people tell its her? A wig can't change someone that much!"
He groaned, "In this show it does!"
"Then is was a stupid show." I rolled my eyes, "You kept forgetting to tell me when she changed into the wig!"
"Well I figured you'd catch on!"
"Obviously I didn't!"
After four and a half episodes of Hannah Montana, we were both fully frustrated with each others stupidity.
"You just had to listen, there's a small distinction between the Hannah voice and the Miley voice!" He argued.
"I would've heard it! It sounded exactly the same." I folded my arms, "This is why we always disagree because you think shows like these are the best."
He scoffed, "It was creative."
I mocked his scoff, "Skins was creative."
He laughed, "A bunch of stoners and sex addict teenagers are very creative." Ed said and nudged my shoulder.
"You aggravate me."
"The feeling is mutual, doll."
"Doll?" I questioned.
"Oh, oh uh," he stuttered, "You just remind me of those porcelain dolls. I call you that in my head." He admitted softly.
"How do I reminded you of a doll?"
"Your eyes." he said softly. "They're one if the most pale I've ever seen, and I know its due to your sightlesness, but they're a beautiful, glassy blue that I like to stare at. Then when you smile, it looks perfect, and you don't smile very often. Those dolls are made to perfection, you know? But what reminds me of you most is how fragile you are. You look like a warrior, and I've never seen you fully broken, but I know that you've cracked. If you fall hard enough, you'll shatter into millions of microscopic pieces, like a doll."
I processed the words he said. "Did you steal that from an American television show?" I joked.
I was actually very happy. What he just recited to me was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said in my days. I wanted to laugh, and I wanted to cry, because I was glad that he'd said these words, but I was afraid that they'd slip away just as easily.
"Of course." He said sarcastically and laughed.
"You're good with words."
"Perks of writing music, everything gains poetic justice." He said softly.
"You've written more than one song?" I asked. He confirmed and I became excited, "Sing one to me!"
He was hesitant, "It's pretty late, Sophia."
Instantly, I flopped, "Please." I begged.
He was silent for a moment then stood up, taking my elbow in his hands and brought me into the same room as before. I was seated on the bed and listened to him fumble around the room.
Un-melodic chords were sounded just to my right. He cursed and suddenly plucked and plucked until it sounded just right. "What do you want me to sing?"
I shrugged, "Which is the one people like most when you sing?"
He didn't speak, only began plucking the strings forming a semi-soft, graceful tune. It easily put me in bliss. He cleared his throat then began singing, "Give me love like her..."
*
After he was finished, I was in awe. He started off so soft, and peaceful, but as the song progressed on, his voice grew more raspy and raw and I just loved it.
As he sang, I listened to the words behind the music. They were straight from the heart - his very broken one.
"Ed, are you sad?" I asked the boy.
"Indeed, I am."
authors note: I completely forgot that I was supposed to update yesterday ._. but anyway, I'm one day late, not so bad.:)
comment for your shoutout at the beginning of the chapter!
can I get 15 comments? its not really a goal, I just really want a bit of feedback.
is this book what you expected? do you like it, do you not? why do you? who do you ship?
not edited :(