The St. James residence

[GGJ5]

Apartment number 232A, the St. James home is a three-bedroom apartment with the same fluffy brown carpet throughout it just like the majority of the other apartments surrounding it. On the ground floor, however, it faced the washateria across the lot.

Silhouette's bedroom is farthest to the back, the door on the right at the end of the hall. Her younger brothers' room is the first door on the right, across the hall from the bathroom. Her father's bedroom was nearly always closed, whether he was inside or not, which is a habit Silhouette has picked up, too. If one does see inside her room, it is in a perpetual state of controlled chaos. While it looks a little disorderly compared to the rest of the house (that she readily keeps clean through her own initiative), everything has its place. The walls are decorated with professional pictures and snapshots of her and her teammates in various sports, clubs, school activities, and choir events. Her bed is usually loosely made, with a yellow quilt across it (her favorite color).

The living room is relatively open, despite having little light save what the windows and kitchen light let in. The walls and floor are clan of clutter, with a few neatly arranged family portraits around. The TV is on a small stand in the corner, across from the well-worn armchair the boys (including her dad when he was off-shift) loved to use as if it was the only piece of furniture. The loveseat nearby often sat neglected, unless Silhouette was using it, or another family member or friend acknowledged its presents.

[More than Music]

OOC: LET THE semi-HARMLESS CREEPINESS BEGIIIIIIIIIIN! And, sensei, this is pretty much copy-and-pasted from my book, so there might be some character development stuffles from that... if so, please let me know and I'll fix it/them. :3

And this is kinda what he's wearing right now... just in case you were wanting to know. Yes, it's an excuse to look up Dom pictures. Yesssssssssss.

BIC:

Clarence Morgan

Clarence realized his car had come to a stop. He hadn't noticed before, in a blur. This was the first time he'd really had nightmares about his father in the eight years since he'd been in the hospital. And, to add to his horror, Timothy's dad had been in it too. It hadn't been a good night so far, and now he found himself driving around like a zombie. He checked the clock. Three in the morning. Not the right time to be out, even for someone who's reflexes were as good as his when it came to avoiding crashes. He'd done it repeatedly, tired out from school or something, but this time... no. He was glad he'd stopped.

He looked around, wondering where he'd stopped. There had to have been a reason for it... his subconscious was too sly to just stop randomly. No, there was definitely an underlined meaning.

Then he saw it. He was parked on the same side of the street at a house that he realized was familiar. The St. James residence. “Of course, what else?” he muttered to himself, laying his head against the steering wheel, his face going absolutely blank. He'd been here a few times before, but only for a little while before giving up. No, they just didn't get along like that. She just didn't like him at all. That was the way it was suppose to be.

But, why here? Of all the places that had emotional value to him, he'd stopped here. He'd come here. What was it about her that got to him so much? He didn't understand what she was to him.

Maybe... No, absolutely not. It wasn't like that. She interested him, but he didn't like her. Much less... It was definitely not like that. He'd never felt it before, but he'd convinced himself it felt differently. It just... had to.

Right? It was different than what everyone else was going on about. He'd just gotten out of the plague that was high school, where everyone felt like they should be in love with someone else. Clarence had managed to successfully dodge all their remarks and only throw a few punches trying to avoid the peer pressure. He'd woken up with books in his bed instead of girls for the most part; he considered himself both strong and lucky for the things he'd managed to not do during high school.

But maybe he wasn't any better than everyone else had been.

So they all thought they were head-over-heels for someone... for life. He didn't think that way. He didn't think about his future like that. When Clarence thought of his future, he didn't see a girl there for him. After seeing so many people making mistakes in love, he'd promised himself he wouldn't have that problem. So far, he'd done just that. But now... What was this? Was he really that weak? After all he'd been through because of a mistaken 'love', shouldn't he be strong enough to not make the same mistake?

Then he realized it. He wasn't making that mistake. Instead of thinking he was in love with Silhouette and getting them both – and whoever else may get stuck in the middle – hurt, he was keeping his distance and certainly not letting himself get too deeply involved.

Or was he?

Scooting over, Clarence moved himself into the passenger seat, which was on the side facing Silhouette's house. Alright, so, what was he here for anyway? Staring over, his hands pressed against the window like a child peeking into a toy store at Christmas. A strange thought occurred to him that maybe the room he could see was Silhouette's room. Perhaps. It could be or it could not be. It was pretty much a coin toss.

His warm breath was fogging up the window, his expression still blank. “Why am I here?” he breathed, shaking his head. “What am I doing here?”

[GGJ5]

Silhouette St. James

She had always been a light sleeper.

Every hurricane that came through during the night, she was up every moment. Not because they scared her or that the roof leaked-- she hadn't experienced any of that. No, it was that the wind was too loud or the lightning too bright or the rain too angry as it attacked the roof and windows. Even a cold front could make her feel like a zombie the next day sometimes.

It was normal for her to wake up several times throughout the night: if the air conditioner kicked on, or someone in the house got up for water or for the bathroom... now she stirred underneath the lemon-drop quilt, her face having turned to the window as she slept. And now, it was the moon that shone through her eyelids-- a bright, close moon that decided to come out from behind the night clouds at just the wrong moment. Her eyes were open before she noticed, everything about her a little fuzzy from her lack of contacts.

Her window faced the street, which also meant that the streetlights poured into her room, too. She'd grown used to those, mostly, knowing now where the glints would be and the shade they'd cast. The moon was half-full, though, and bright-- it lit the place better than street lights ever could. Curious to see the glowing orb in all its half-shaped glory, Silhouette pulled back the curtains with her fingers and glanced outward.

She did see the moon first-- it was hard to miss. But then she saw the inky car, which happened to be camping out right in front of her house. Her thoughts immediately ran paranoid, a sharp jump jolting her from the inside out. She grabbed her foil, the thin whip-like sword from fencing (a weirder hobby than most but she'd fallen in love with it) and as stealthily as she could, slunk out of the room and then down the steps of the front of her house.

Outside, Silhouette assumed as authoritative and businesslike air as she could, in effort to make herself feel that way, keeping the foil in clear view in front of her. As she approached the car, she held the foil out at arm's length, tight, poised for defense even if it was a blunt weapon. It could still hurt something fierce. "What do you want?" she demanded, then, peering down through the window, came to a halt.

"Clarence?"

The foil fell to her side.

"What are you doing here?" Her tone was more of concern--something seemed wrong, and it wasn't anything to do with him in the middle of her street in the dead of night-- than it was of admonition. Her first instinct now was that something had happened to Timothy, and Clarence for some reason had thought to come at tell her first.

[More than Music]

Clarence Morgan

It wasn't long after he'd put his hands against the window than she'd appeared outside. Well, honestly, he didn't know. He hadn't been counting minutes or anything. But, sure enough, she came out the door. There was something in her hand that resembled a... well, he didn't know. But it was probably a weapon.

The strangest thing was, his first instinct was to get out and give her his jacket. It was probably chilly out, guessing by the cold that he felt against his fingertips. And, even if he refused to admit it, she looked beautiful, even if she was tired.

Alright, this was getting serious here. He was becoming a creep. But, as long as he didn't think anything wrong, it wasn't bad, right? Right? Who cared?

Hm, she probably did.

"What do you want?" The way she was holding her weapon so readily was almost making him smile - but not quite. His face remained pasted in a slightly pitiful upset expression. Then she looked at his face, and must have recognized him, because the defensive look left her face. Pausing, she seemed a little shocked. "Clarence?"

A weak smile came onto his face, but he didn't try to say anything.

"What are you doing here?" She sounded a little worried. He frowned, narrowing his eyes a little. What was she looking at him like that? Did it look like something was wrong? She wasn't worried he would attack her, or anything a normal person would think. She was worried. That surprised him. Getting out of the car, Clarence leaned back against the pure black vehicle and put his hands in his pockets.

"Incredible," he muttered. "You find me outside your house at, what, three or four am? And you sound like you're worried about me." A tired laugh. "I just don't get you, Silhouette. You're just nothing like the backstabbers I'm used to." He paused, looking up at the moon sideways. "That came out weird." 'Almost like a compliment or something. God forbid, right? Sometimes I'm such an a**.' He shrugged. "Anyway, I guess I'll actually be honest, because dishonesty's what got everyone into this mess." He sighed, shrugging again. "Okay, so some crap happened with my family, and I just couldn't sleep. I started driving, idiotic as that is, and I ended up here for some reason. I can't figure it out. I'm just... here." Clarence met Silhouette's eyes, finding his posture becoming more relaxed as he felt her questioning gaze on him. It was like he wanted her to be suspicious.

'I don't care what it takes. As childish as it is, I want your attention. I want you to watch me, to yell at me, whatever. I don't care. I want you to pay attention to me. Maybe even to worry about me, or... or whatever you want. Just... talk to me. Stay with me. Maybe that's why I'm here. I want that from you and I can't get the guts to tell you that because it sounds so stupid. I need this. No one at home wants me. If I'm gonna not need them, I need you. Or someone. Just... give me a few hours of your time. Scream your lungs out, cry your eyes out, or just stand here with me and lean against the car. Stay with me.'

"I wanna talk about it if you're willing to listen. So tell me if you are, and don't lie to me. I've got enough of that at home. I don't need you to lie to me. I need you to tell me what you want. So, what'll it be?"

His eyes showed his true feelings betrayed this idea, but the rest of his face had become the hard and sarcastic face he was sure she knew by now. And he was good at keeping his face hard.

But something slipped out that shouldn't have.

"I don't want you to hate me. That's the truth. And I don't just want someone to talk to. That's not what this is. I want to talk to you. So I want you to tell me if that's cool with your or if it's not, and I want you to tell me now."

'So go ahead. Break me or whatever. I'm ready, right?'

[GGJ5]

Silhouette St. James

"What do you want?"

The person's face came clearer into view-- or maybe it's because she'd woken up more thoroughly now-- and Silhouette saw the owner of the night-watcher's face. Her foil drooped in surprise. "Clarence?"

He acknowledged her exclamation wearily.

"What are you doing here?" She was more concerned than anything else. Something had to be pretty bad for him to come all the way down here, right?

Clarence climbed out of his car by way of answer, leaning his back against it as if the situation was the most casual in the world. As if it wasn't weird. His hands were even in his pockets. Okay... now I feel a little out of place...

"Incredible," he muttered, his awe making Silhouette peer at him curiously. "What's incredible?"

"You find me outside your house at, what, three or four am? And you sound like you're worried about me."

It seems like a normal reaction enough to me...

Clarence gave a subdued chuckle. "I just don't get you, Silhouette. You're just nothing like the backstabbers I'm used to."

Silhouette said nothing, letting his words sink in. Was that all he was really accustomed to? If so, it was a tragedy. And, she thought, explained a lot, about why he could seem so jaded... "That came out weird."

"No, it didn't," she responded quickly. He couldn't shut down now-- he wouldn't, right? He was here for a reason-- he needed something.

He shrugged. "Anyway, I guess I'll actually be honest, because dishonesty's what got everyone into this mess." He sighed, shrugging again, as Silhouette nodded a little, trying to encourage him to get out what he needed in spite of how weird the situation felt. "What mess are we talking about?"

"Okay, so some crap happened with my family, and I just couldn't sleep. I started driving, idiotic as that is, and I ended up here for some reason. I can't figure it out. I'm just... here."

She watched him melt a little more into the side of his car, curious. Silhouette felt like she needed to keep encouraging him, to keep him going or he might just hope back into the car and leave, driving back to whatever problems he'd fled.

"All right..."

"I wanna talk about it if you're willing to listen. So tell me if you are, and don't lie to me. I've got enough of that at home. I don't need you to lie to me. I need you to tell me what you want. So, what'll it be?"

Now Silhouette shrugged. It was a weird request, but who was she to deny it if Clarence was coming to her, because he thought she could help him with something? If he needed something? It would be so wrong to turn him away. She nodded again, then gestured to the sidewalk near them. "Do you want to sit down?" He didn't seem very interested, but still... he had come all this way and was, in essence, stuck here until he vented enough to feel right enough to go home.

"I don't want you to hate me. That's the truth. And I don't just want someone to talk to. That's not what this is. I want to talk to you. So I want you to tell me if that's cool with your or if it's not, and I want you to tell me now."

"No, it's all right," Silhouette was quick to respond. "You can talk to me if you need to," not knowing what it was that made her the only one he thought he could talk with... but if that's the way it was, then so be it. A very slight smile appeared on her face, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little confused. "I don't know what I can do... but I can listen, if that's what you need." I know I can do that...

[More than Music]

Clarence "Ren" Morgan

"What are you doing here?"

He got out and leaned against the car, fighting to keep his cool and - for once - winning easily against his emotions as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Incredible."

"What's incredible?" Silhouette asked, sounding confused.

"You find me outside your house at, what, three or four am? And you sound like you're worried about me." He watched her for a moment, waiting for a reaction. She said nothing, so he laughed a little. "I just don't get you, Silhouette. You're just nothing like the backstabbers I'm used to." He stared up at the moon, trying not to think too hard. "That came out weird."

"No, it didn't," she quickly corrected. A hint of surprise entered his eyes, and he felt himself smiling at her a little.

She wanted him to stay, didn't she? Didn't she?

He shrugged. "Anyway, I guess I'll actually be honest, because dishonesty's what got everyone into this mess."

Silhouette nodded, silently cheering him on. "What mess are we talking about?"

'What, you think I want to be specific? Of course I do! How can you see right through me, anyway? But are you sure you can take this? I mean... do you really want it?' He couldn't help but hold onto making her urge him. He wanted this attention. He wanted her to worry about him some more first.

"Okay, so some crap happened with my family, and I just couldn't sleep. I started driving, idiotic as that is, and I ended up here for some reason. I can't figure it out. I'm just... here." He calmed a little, liking the way coming right out and saying it felt.

'Maybe this isn't the only thing I need to tell you. Maybe this isn't what we should be saying right now.'

"All right..."

"I wanna talk about it if you're willing to listen. So tell me if you are, and don't lie to me. I've got enough of that at home. I don't need you to lie to me. I need you to tell me what you want. So, what'll it be?"

She nodded again. This was just getting better and better, wasn't it? Incredible! Absolutely incredible! For once, he didn't want to make her mad. He didn't want her to be honest... he wanted her to let him be honest. She motioned towards the sidewalk. "Do you want to sit down?"

He didn't move at first. This was beginning to seem surreal; he wanted some real confirmation that she wanted him to talk.

"I don't want you to hate me. That's the truth. And I don't just want someone to talk to. That's not what this is. I want to talk to you. So I want you to tell me if that's cool with your or if it's not, and I want you to tell me now."

"No, it's all right." Again, she made sure to say it quick. She somehow knew how much he wanted her enthusiasm. And he wanted her to make him stay. "You can talk to me if you need to." Then she smiled at him. A very small smile, but still a smile. She wanted to listen. She really did. "I don't know what I can do... but I can listen, if that's what you need."

A smile of relief swept all the doubt off of his face. "Great," he said, coming over and sitting on the sidewalk. He laid back and covered his face with his arm, calming and trying to remember everything from the beginning. 'Don't worry about how she'll react. Just say it how it is and go from there.'

"Okay, so this is what happened." He shifted a little, his hand right next to where she was. "Timmy's dad. Jerk of the century, right? Seriously. He's the worst dad I've ever seen, at least, of the ones that aren't homicidal. I don't know how he does it, but he can hurt the kid and not feel bad about it. How can someone hit Timmy, anyway? I mean... I knew his dad was pretty bad... and I know how it feels to have a dad like that. But... I saw him this time. I mean..."

He took a deep breath, peeking over at Silhouette. "It's different... knowing, and seeing." Clarence put his arm back over his face. "I blew it, of course. Tim's my little brother, and... he's really all the family I can count on. Mom stopped me before I started throwing punches - I still don't know why - and he's not at the house right now, but... I mean, seriously. What sort of guy does that?"

Clarence shook his head, taking his arm off of his face and looking over at Silhouette. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but... I just can't do it on my own anymore, Silhouette. I mean..." He laughed at himself, closing his eyes. "What do I mean?" Sitting up, Clarence looked right into Silhouette's face. "I'm... I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of what his dad's capable of. I'm afraid of Timmy ending up like me... I'm afraid of him ending up in the hospital because of his dad like I did and..." He closed his eyes and put both hands on his face. "I'm effin' shakin'..." A bittersweet smile came on his face. "Listen, I know you can't fix me. But... I don't know why, I just... I just knew you'd listen... You had to..." Opening his eyes, his eyes fell to where her smile had lingered earlier. "That's it, I guess."

[GGJ5]

Silhouette St. James

"You can talk to me if you need to. I don't know what I can do... but I can listen, if that's what you need."

Apparently, that was what he wanted --or needed-- to hear. And luckily, it was something she was good at doing. "Great," he said, coming over and sitting on the sidewalk. He laid back and covered his face with his arm, meanwhile Silhouette remaining silent and waiting. She felt anxious, to be honest. What kinds of things was she about to hear? What would she do if he confided in her? Why would he even want to confide in her? She felt like they barely knew each other, and Silhouette was pretty sure Clarence thought she was half crazy with her weird, mother-esque quirks that always came out if she was babysitting his brother. Well, they were almost always out anyway...

Her train of thought was interrupted with Clarence's sudden words of confession. "Okay, so this is what happened. Timmy's dad. Jerk of the century, right? Seriously. He's the worst dad I've ever seen, at least, of the ones that aren't homicidal. I don't know how he does it, but he can hurt the kid and not feel bad about it. How can someone hit Timmy, anyway? I mean... I knew his dad was pretty bad... and I know how it feels to have a dad like that. But... I saw him this time. I mean..."

The only visual change on Silhouette were her eyes, that widened at the realization that that precious person she watched when no one else could... that he was trapped like that... that someone could hurt him. That someone so close could hurt him.

Clarence inhaled deeply and glanced her way. "It's different... knowing, and seeing." Silhouette gave a brief nod to show that she was listening and that she got his point. What else could she say?

Clarence put his arm back over his face. Silhouette assumed it was because her quiet response offended him. I'm sorry... I don't know what you want me to do... "I blew it, of course. Tim's my little brother, and... he's really all the family I can count on. Mom stopped me before I started throwing punches - I still don't know why - and he's not at the house right now, but... I mean, seriously. What sort of guy does that?"

"The lowest sort," muttered Silhouette, her eyes watching the streetlights' reflections on the cement. "The sort that's so messed up inside that you wonder if they're even human or not...."

Clarence shook his head, taking his arm off of his face and looking over at Silhouette. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but... I just can't do it on my own anymore, Silhouette. I mean..." He laughed, closing his eyes. "What do I mean?" She wondered why he asked that; it sounded pretty clear what he meant to her.

Clarence sat upright and faced Silhouette intently. "I'm... I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of what his dad's capable of. I'm afraid of Timmy ending up like me... I'm afraid of him ending up in the hospital because of his dad like I did and..." He closed his eyes and put both hands on his face. "I'm effin' shakin'..."

In a few moments Silhouette had learned more about Clarence and, his family by extension, than she had ever really known before. Sure, sh had suspected parental neglect or some form of abuse-- Timothy showed too many red flags for her to ignore the question--, but without proof, what could she have done? And Clarence was wrapped in it much more tightly than she'd realized. It was breaking him, wasn't it? Never would she have thought she would be witnessing him breaking... It pulled at her, tugging at her heartstrings like a tragic song that was all too true.

"Clarence? I..."

"Listen, I know you can't fix me. But... I don't know why, I just... I just knew you'd listen... You had to..." He opened his eyes. "That's it, I guess."

Silhouette tried again. She nodded. "I know, Clarence... not personally, so I know it's not the same, but... I've had friends..." She let the sentence trail off, feeling that despite his confessions, her side was too personal. And it wasn't what he needed now anyway. "Does anyone else know about Timothy's dad? What about your mom?" I don't want him to hurt either of you again... we have to do something, right? If you want to... it's really in your hands... I'm sorry.

[More than Music]

OOC: Bwahahahahaha XD Victory!
BIC:

Clarence "Ren" Morgan

"You can talk to me if you need to. I don't know what I can do... but I can listen, if that's what you need."

That was more of a relief than she knew. It really was. It had been a while since he'd really felt like someone wanted to listen to him. "Great," was all he could say, coming over and stretching out next to her on the sidewalk. He put his arm over his face, still sort of afraid and not wanting to see her face. Just in case her reaction was too much. So he let her have it. "Okay, so this is what happened. Timmy's dad. Jerk of the century, right? Seriously. He's the worst dad I've ever seen, at least, of the ones that aren't homicidal. I don't know how he does it, but he can hurt the kid and not feel bad about it. How can someone hit Timmy, anyway? I mean... I knew his dad was pretty bad... and I know how it feels to have a dad like that. But... I saw him this time. I mean..."

He peeked over at her, but she didn't say anything. She just looked shocked, like she couldn't believe it. "It's different... knowing, and seeing." She just nodded to that. 'I guess I kind of want you to say something, but I don't know what... So I'll just take what I can get. For now. I'm gonna need you to talk once I'm done, or I'll cry or something. And I can't cry. No, absolutely no crying.' He put his arm back over his face, sighing. "I blew it, of course. Tim's my little brother, and... he's really all the family I can count on. Mom stopped me before I started throwing punches - I still don't know why - and he's not at the house right now, but... I mean, seriously. What sort of guy does that?"

"The lowest sort," she said quietly. Clarence sighed. 'Thank you. I needed to hear that.' "The sort that's so messed up inside that you wonder if they're even human or not...."

"Well," he began, sighing heavier. "That's the thing. I know he's human, so I can't do anything about him." He shook his head, letting his hand fall to his side and looking right at Silhouette. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but... I just can't do it on my own anymore, Silhouette. I mean..." This wasn't going the way he'd imagined it; he closed his eyes, laughing at himself. "What do I mean?" Clarence sat up, still watching her. His eyes even fell to her lips, and he felt a little worried she would get nervous because of it, but... She'd be fine. He needed to be himself right now, which was just what she was letting him do. "I'm... I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of what his dad's capable of. I'm afraid of Timmy ending up like me... I'm afraid of him ending up in the hospital because of his dad like I did and..." Closing his eyes again, Clarence put his hands on his cheeks, realizing how much he was quivering. "I'm effin' shakin'..."

He didn't hear her start to speak until he'd already said something, but he heard her say his name. That was enough to make him calm a little. "Listen, I know you can't fix me. But... I don't know why, I just... I just knew you'd listen... You had to..." He looked at her, finding some sort of weird strength in her eyes. "That's it, I guess."

Silhouette nodded. "I know, Clarence... not personally, so I know it's not the same, but... I've had friends..." She didn't finish that thought, and he was glad she hadn't. 'I don't want pity. I want you to worry about me, that's all. Is that too much to ask? Come on, don't be like that. Care about me, just a little, that's all I want.' "Does anyone else know about Timothy's dad? What about your mom?"

He sighed. 'So that's the way you wanna be. Okay, fine. Whatever. "She knows, of course she knows, and she doesn't... she wouldn't do anything to help him, I know that. She's a coward." Clarence started to move away from Silhouette but his subconscious stopped him. He looked right into her face, slowly touching her hand like a child that was afraid of being hit. Which he had been, and still was somewhere inside. "Silhouette, I don't think there's anything I can do about it. If there was, I would have done it. I'm protecting him as much as I can. What I need..." His hand curved around her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. "Right now... Is just someone who can protect me." He smiled crookedly. "Just for a little while."

His eyes fell to her lips again, but he made himself look away. 'No, it's not like that. Don't think like that. This... this isn't like that. I just need somebody right now. That doesn't mean anything, not anything else, and not anything like that. No. I'm fine being by myself that way. I'm not needy like that. I'm fine keeping my heart to myself.'

'... Right?'

[GGJ5]

Silhouette St. James

Once again, it felt like everything she said to Clarence was the wrong thing. Like she could say one more wrong thing and he'd become infuriated with her, and she felt like that moment was coming, because she kept saying wrong things.... So Silhouette let her sentence drop. He didn't want empathy. Of course not. Then what did he want?

"Does anyone else know about Timothy's dad?" she asked, changing her train of thought but still perfectly genuine. "What about your mom?"

He sighed. Another wrong thing to say to him, Silhouette guessed, feeling saddened by the thought. She did want to hear his answer... she did want to hear, though, that there would be some hope of Timothy-- and Clarence-- being okay... or at least, safe. Okay could come later if it had to... "She knows, of course she knows, and she doesn't... she wouldn't do anything to help him, I know that. She's a coward." "I'm sorry," she wanted to say, but that would be empathy, and she didn't want another wave of "you said the wrong thing" vibes. She could only communicate her thoughts through silence, hoping he would understand. It wasn't pity or sorrow she had for him and his brother-- it was understanding, it was feeling on a much smaller scale what he was feeling, it was wishing and hoping for his sake. But she couldn't communicate that beyond "I'm sorry", and he would hate that, Silhouette was sure. So instead, she let him place his hand ever so gingerly on hers, her own hand resting reassuringly on top of it. If that's how you'll accept what I'm feeling right now and what I want to say, then that's fine. As long as you understand what I want to tel you, too.

"Silhouette, I don't think there's anything I can do about it. If there was, I would have done it. I'm protecting him as much as I can. What I need..." His hand curved around her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. She returned the hold with a strong reassurance, recognizing the fear. "Right now... Is just someone who can protect me." He smiled crookedly. "Just for a little while."

He means me...? What? How am I supposed to protect you, Clarence? Everything I say around you is wrong, what do you think I can do? The brief moment of confusion on her face passed as quickly as it had come.

Now Clarence looked nervous, but it could have been the strange night lighting. She couldn't recall ever seeing him nervous... "Clarence? Is there--" Snap... I'm gonna say something he doesn't like again, and that'll be the end of it... He'd said he needed someone to protect him... and she wasn't at all sure of what he meant by that. "What do you need me to do for you?"

[More than Music]

Clarence “Ren” Morgan

"She knows, of course she knows, and she doesn't... she wouldn't do anything to help him, I know that. She's a coward." He put his hand over hers, enjoying the warmth he felt there, trying to ignore the confusion on her face. "Silhouette, I don't think there's anything I can do about it. If there was, I would have done it. I'm protecting him as much as I can. What I need...” Clarence took Silhouette's hand in his. She held his hand tightly in return, and it gave him a strange sort of strength. "Right now... Is just someone who can protect me." A crooked smile came onto his face. "Just for a little while."

His eyes fell to her lips, and he felt a wave of nervousness as he tried to camouflage it unsuccessfully.

"Clarence? Is there--"

'Is there what? Say what you mean, Silhouette. Just say it. Stop being afraid of me, I haven't done anything to make you think I'll implode at any moment. Get it out already.' He couldn't really stop himself from watching her mouth as she spoke.

"What do you need me to do for you?"

That little smirk returned. “Just about anything'll do.” He tightened his hand around hers. “Just don't run off, or stick around for any other reason than to be with me. I don't get that often.” Clarence leaned a little closer to her. “But I like it when I do.”

He found himself leaning more. Some interior motive was making him move until their faces were inches from her face. 'Don't do it... it'll ruin everything. I need her to stay. I don't know why, I just do. Don't scare her away... Can't scare her away...' It happened anyway. Their lips met and his mouth wrapped around hers. It felt really good, actually, so he pressed himself against her. If he was going to ruin everything – and he already had – he might as well get a good kiss out of it. He wasn't willing to make a relationship out of it, but he liked her, he really did. And it felt awesome to finally show that to her. Yes, she would definitely not like it. That wasn't the point.

'This is what I need. See? You can't handle it, can you? You can't.'

[GGJ5]

Silhouette St. James

"What do you need me to do for you?" She wasn't sure where this was going. It was kind of an awkward situation, and she was beginning to feel drained and uncomfortable. Silhouette had half a mind to just excuse herself and go back inside, but then... his confession to her had just floored her other half. He had let her in, and had allowed himself to be vulnerable to her. He had come to her for help. How could she let the cowardly half of her want to leave him like that?

“Just about anything'll do.” Clarence gave her a slight smile. He wasn't doing a good job of helping her to help him... She let him hold her hand, hoping that would help him if he needed it. “Just don't run off, or stick around for any other reason than to be with me. I don't get that often.” Clarence shifted closer to her, and automatically she shifted away equally. He probably didn't notice how close he'd gotten. “But I like it when I do.”

Silhouette fell short of words; she nodded briefly instead. Clarence came closer again, and she really felt uncomfortable, her muscles tensing into knots. Stop it, I don't--

He did. He did. For the first time in her life, Silhouette felt the sensation of another's lips against hers, and it terrified her. She could feel Clarence's weight against her form, and as soon as she could, Silhouette pushed herself away. She scrambled back, clambering to her feet. "What do you think you're doing!?" she whispered hoarsely, eyes narrowed from a mix of shock and anger. "Clarence!" She could slap him. She should slap him! Her hands twitched tensely beside her. How could he do that? How could he?!

Had he been stalking her, too? Was that why he had been on her street?

"Don't come back here." Final words. Icy. Frozen words, dropping from her mouth onto his feet. I mean it. She turned and ran back into her house, shutting and locking the door behind her.

From her window, Silhouette as discretely as she could peered out at the street to make sure Clarence left. She dropped her head back down on the pillow and glared hardly at the ceiling. It didn't matter what he thought of her or not, or what secrets he might share, he had no right to take from her what she did not offer. Not something she'd wanted to be special, that he'd stolen through a stupid impulse. He successfully ruined whatever chances he might have had with her, Silhouette thought to the ceiling angrily. She was sure of it.

Silhouette is finished here.[/u]

[More than Music]

OOC: *cackles*
BIC:

Clarence "Ren" Morgan

"What do you need me to do for you?"

“Just about anything'll do. Just don't run off, or stick around for any other reason than to be with me. I don't get that often. But I like it when I do.”

So he kissed her. And it felt good, and he felt no shame.

She obviously had a different take on it.

"What do you think you're doing!?" she cried, flying backwards.

He frowned openly, folding his arms. "Don't have a cow, Silhouette. It was just a kiss."

"Clarence!"

He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. 'Does it really mean that much to you? Why?' "Stop yelling at me," he told her. 'What's with you, Silhouette? I can't figure this out. Tell me what you're feeling already.'

"Don't come back here."

His mouth fell open as she retreated into her house. "S-Silhouette!" Slam. A numb sensation took him over, and he rose to his feet slowly. "FINE! SORRY I'M SUCH A WASTE OF YOUR TIME!" He stormed to his car and slammed that door, as if in retaliation. Gripping the wheel like a vice, he didn't move for a moment. When he could finally function, he turned on the car and pulled out so fast his wheels screamed in protest.

'Screw you, anyway. I don't need anyone. I've never needed anyone before.' He felt himself shaking, beginning to cry, and he didn't stop driving until they went away.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were different.'

Clarence is done here.

[More than Music]

OOC: Another planned Si/Ren interaction. BWAHAHA *monopolizes thread*
BIC:

Clarence "Ren" Morgan

Timmy had the blankets, curled up in them on the backseat, sleeping softly. Clarence fought the shaking that kept coming. He hated the cold and it was killing him, he just knew it, but he refused to be weak.

To give him strength, he had Secondhand Serenade playing again. Ever since Christmas Day, when Timmy had played it, Clarence had found a strange solace in listening to this artist. With "Your Call" playing gently, Clarence tried to feel his fingers. It wasn't working out well. It really sucked to feel this way; lethargic and achy, like something was wrong with him.

But no. He refused to let this cold get the best of him.

And, for some reason, letting the weakness get a hold of him that had made him kiss Silhouette just a few feet from where he sat in his car right now, made it easier. Maybe because it didn't feel like weakness anymore. Out of the darkness in the car, Clarence felt like it was almost a strength. 'Listen to the song,' his body told him. 'Listen to the song and you'll remember her, remember how brave you were.' And that would remind him of how brave it was to take on Timmy by himself, and how brave it was to give his little brother the blankets instead of taking them for himself.

'I've come a long way since that night, though, haven't I?' He closed his eyes, laying his head gently against the steering wheel. 'I've been living with Timmy in my car since a week or two before Christmas. He's been stir-crazy but he's felt safe more than he ever did at home. It's like, because I'm being strong, he's finding strength too, and safety in our strength. So this is doing him so good. And it's worth it.'

'But it still hurts.'

Slowly, Clarence looked up, staring over at Silhouette's house. Was that why he was here? He was hurting again. Maybe he needed her.

'No. She doesn't care, remember? She's like Yukito and Erin... they only put up with me for Timmy's sake. Remember what she said?' His instincts were talking to him again, the instincts that had been beaten into submission by his own fists, screaming at himself that no one cared about him. He deserved it. He'd made it so that no one cared about him. He didn't need anybody hanging on him. He just needed to make sure Timmy was okay.

'Yeah, I remember what she said,' was his mental reply as his eyes narrowed.

"I don't want to like him. At all. In any way, shape, or form."

He tensed, but couldn't grab the wheel. It had been getting worse every day, and he hated it. He hated all of this leaving home stuff, but, for once in his life, he was doing what was best for someone else instead of just living for himself. And it was for Timmy, so it was worth it.

It was worth it.

It was worth it to kiss her too. Because, at least he knew how she felt, right?

No.

Clarence looked back at Timmy. Sleeping just fine. He got out of the car, shut the door carefully, and went up to Silhouette's window, tapping on it rather rudely.

'I won't take no for an answer. That's all there is to it. I've never let someone tell me 'no' before. I won't start now.'

[GGJ5]

Silhouette St. James

Since talking to Chance, she'd really been trying hard to build up the courage to talk to Clarence. It really had made her feel just awful to see him running out the cafe... knowing he'd heard her hasty words. Not knowing if she really meant them. Silhouette didn't hate Clarence-- she was sure she didn't have it in her to truly hate anyone. But she was still angry about the stolen kiss-- it had been so special to her, she wanted to give it beautifully and romantically, and now that was gone. It wasn't going to come back. Ever. He didn't even know her well enough to care about that. It was like he'd popped one of her dream-balloons. So she had made herself determined to separate herself from him.

But then he'd head her. And she had seen a portion of how hurtful her words had been to him. Granted, not as severe as his actions had hurt her, but it wasn't a thing about equality. It was the fact that she had hurt him. And Silhouette had been trying to become brave enough to try to talk with him, like Chance had said. Like others had said, too. Why was she so scared to do this? She was usually so rarely afraid to speak up...

But she'd avoided him like the plague, afraid to say something without proper preparation and practice. And those things, of course, would never come. It was such an awkward, difficult thing...

Now she was asleep, but restless. She kept tossing and turning and waking up on and off. Silhouette was normally a light sleeper, but she usually didn't toss so much. It was the worry, her mind still working on all the things that stressed her, that kept her from good rest.

In one of the moments of her half-awake state, a sharp rap came at her window. She bolted upright, heart thumping fast in automatic fear of the worst. Silhouette assumed her most assertive countenance and poking her head through the curtains enough to see. Clarence! A mixture of relief and shock shook her-- a very peculiar mix. She stuck her head through the curtains further, so her whole face was exposed. "What--?" she started to mouth, then shifted. "Wait," she said, gesturing with her hand that she would only be a second.

Silhouette left her bed, wrapped herself in her well-worn robe, and slipped outside and around to her window. "Hey," she called quietly to get his attention. "Hey... what are-- I mean, is something wrong?" She wanted so much to apologize then and there, but if something was wrong, that had to take priority.

[More than Music]

Clarence “Ren” Morgan

He'd hit his limit. He was fighting an apathetic mood and felt like stirring something up, if he was being honest. Maybe that was why he had come to Silhouette's house. Yeah, maybe. But he decided that he wouldn't let her just shove him away on a first kiss and get off that easy. She'd rejected him, yes, but losing wasn't an option to him.

Clarence hit her window a little too roughly, but wasn't capable of much more than that. Silhouette soon appeared, and his face morphed into something between a look of fury and a goofy grin. He'd missed seeing her face, he'd admit that – even if he wasn't so hot on the rejection thing. Whatever. He would clear that up tonight.

Started mouthing something, and Clarence's eyes stayed locked on her lips. "Wait," she finally told him, and he nodded. Yeah, well, she'd probably been in bed. 'Come out in your jammies or whatever. I don't care. I'm not here to check you out. I'm here to yell at you because it was stupid to push me away and not explain yourself, then to go on ranting to your friend like I'm some sort of bad guy. I didn't do anything to you, certainly not anything as bad as any other guy would've done. Just cool your jets, get yourself out here, and listen to what I have to say.' He glanced back at the car as he fiddled with his fingers and tried to get the feeling back in them. He'd been out in the cold too long, and Timmy would've said something. But, for now, he was fast asleep, and Clarence wasn't sure how long that would last after he got to yelling but... he had to do this. He wanted to know where she stood, once and for all.

Clarence refused to hold onto something if he didn't know what it was.

"Hey." Silhouette had finally appeared, a robe wrapped around her.

He smirked a little as he looked it up and down. “Cute.”

"Hey... what are-- I mean, is something wrong?"

Clarence frowned. “Is that the sort of person you think I am?” This was getting heated too fast, but he was ticked off at his physical state, why shouldn't he get mad about his emotional state as well? He bit his lip a little and looked away from her. “You think I only come to people when something's wrong?” Clarence turned from her and took a deep breath. “Look, if that's why I was here, you know full well I could list things off all night. But that's not the point.” He couldn't look at her... that wasn't good. “I'm here because I've been thinking about what I hear you tell that kid in the cafe.” Now he could look at her, his anger showing in his eyes. “I want to know if you hate me or not, because I refuse to wait in mid-air until you decide to say something to me.” This wasn't fair of him, but... since when was life fair to him, huh?

He folded his arms over his chest. “I'm here because I won't take just 'no' as an answer. I'm here because 'go away and don't ever come back' and 'I don't want to ever like you' doesn't tell me... doesn't tell me anything.” Clarence tried to wiggle his fingers but couldn't. He was using too much energy already? This sucked. He swayed a little, so he leaned on her house for support, trying to play it cool. “I want to know what you feel about me, Silhouette, and I won't leave until you tell me.”