prince of nothing charming (open)

[JESS MORETTI]

Jess smirked. He had read Jane Eyre. In fact, he had tackled the novel more than once. He found little enjoyment in Charlotte Bronte's work, he personally felt it lacked much passion. But it was clear that Lena was very much in love with the novel. Again, one seldom put things on their key chains that they just sort of liked. Jess found himself wondering what other books Lena enjoyed that she did not have displayed with her keys.

"Ohh well I do feel special." He chuckled and smirked, plucking up the sketch book that contained her drawing of him. He casually flips it open and observes the sketch, his eyes trailing over the dark lines. "I've never seen a drawing of me before. It is an interesting experience." He mused aloud. "Has anyone ever drawn you? Given their perspective of you?"

Jess closed the book and set it on top of the other one. "You...left them at the shop." It wasn't a complete lie. Lena had left one of them sitting on the counter as she left. Jess had not even noticed the second until long after she had departed. And he was not sure if it was okay to somehow track her down to her home and return them. For a while Jess had just kept them under the counter, thinking that perhaps Lena would return for them. Of course, the first, Jess had taken from her truck. He would not have if he had known she would leave one for his taking later on.

[LENA CALLISTA SANCHEZ]

"Ohh well I do feel special."

A hint of red tinged her cheeks at his comment, and she finally looked abruptly away from him and her sketchbooks. Instead, she looked out a nearby window. She could see a large white oak out on the long, its empty branches making it appear desolate and lonely. In warmer weather, Lena would often find herself cradled in its limbs, a book or notebook in hand. It was a place that provided privacy, shade, and tranquility. At the thought of her summer hiding spot, she was recalled back to the present. One of those notebooks--the one not containing the sketch of Jess--had been her constant companion last summer in the oak. Most of the drawings there were from that period.

"Has anyone ever drawn you? Given their perspective of you?"

Lena shook her head as she licked her lips slightly, "No," she replied, still looking out the window at the oak, "None of my friends and my family members can draw well," Lena wasn't sure why she added the second part; perhaps because negative answer had been slightly a lie. It was sometime in middle school, and Lena had been carefully drawing her dog as he slept on her bed. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't hear her older sister's footsteps as she came up the stairs.

"Oh, that's just awful," Ceres exclaimed, giggling as she plucked the notebook out of Lena's hands. Lena's lips tightened in irritation, but she didn't say anything, "I bet I can draw better than that."

Ceres tore out the page Lena had been working on and grabbed one of the many pencils laying around in the room. Quickly, she scribbled out a crude stick drawing, "Ta da! Can't you recognize it? It's you!" Still giggling, Ceres left the room, leaving Lena burning in shame and anger.

Lena was glad Ceres was living in Los Angeles now, an entire country away from Lena. She and Ceres had never really been that close; they were total opposites in personality.

"You...left them at the shop."

She looked up as he spoke again, studying his face carefully with a small frown. The pause, however diminutive, was not inconsequential to her. 'He must not be telling the whole truth' Lena mused curiously to herself, but she decided that whatever the whole truth was, it wasn't important enough to pressure him over. As if she could pressure him over it. "What do you think people see?"

The question came from her lips quickly before she had a chance to think about what she was thinking. She could feel her cheeks redden slightly, but Lena hoped that the dim light in the room coupled with her wavy hair being down and covering parts of her face would hide the fact.

[JESS MORETTI]

With a soft grunt, Jess lifted himself up to perch on the counter. He curled his callused fingers over the edge of the surface and dangled his legs limply. He had embarrassed her once again. How many times had that red flush returned to her fair freckled cheeks? He had long lost count, but he entertained the idea of making a game out of it. Create a record book and tally up the amount of times he got her to blush in an allotted time. A soft, quick breath through his nose was the only sign of his internal amusement.

"No?" He leaned back, fingers still gripping the edge of the counter, and stretched his legs forward to try and touch his toes to the opposite surface. "It's kinda weird. Seeing a drawing of yourself." He mused, eyes turned onto the sketch books. He plucked up one and flipped the cover open to eye the sketch of himself once more. "Do you prefer people, or landscapes?" Jess questioned out of simple curiosity. She had such a wide variety of subjects in here, it was hard to tell what she truly specialized in.

The moment Lena's lips pursed into that little frown, Jess knew she was skeptical. But he also knew she hadn't the audacity to call him out on it. When a few beats passed without a word from Lena, his assumption had been confirmed. Even if she knew without a doubt he had swiped one of those books from her truck, Lena would not make the accusation. A part of Jess actually wanted her to fire up again, jab him in the chest with a pain brush and demand he speak the truth. Instead, he got a question.

An eyebrow ticked up at her blush. Odd. Silence settled between them as he considered his answer. "I think," Jess began, "people see fear. And intimidation. Uncertainty." He dropped from his perch and gathered the sketch books into his hands. "And every now and then, perhaps a glimpse of passion, and knowledge, and curiosity." As he spoke, Jess slowly crossed the room to Lena and stopped in front of her. "Though, I think the better question is: Does it matter what people see?" Head canted to the side, Jess held Lena's sketchbooks out to her.

[LENA CALLISTA SANCHEZ]

Lena quietly looked on as Jess examined the sketch she had done of him, perhaps more intensely than he had before. The way his dark gaze flowed over the page and Lena wished she could ask him what he thought of the drawing of him that she had done, besides him thinking it was weird to see him being portrayed by her. And was it her? Was it specifically the way she had drawn him, the way she had honestly seen him? Surely he wouldn't think it was weird to see himself in a photograph. 'Though,' she added mentally, 'a normal photograph just takes a picture and shows what's there. A drawing can show a lot more than just that.

She frowned, his inquiry about whether she preferred people or landscapes barely heard, as she wondered what emotions she had drawn Jess with when he had been working on her car. Lena shrugged and decided it didn't matter what she had felt at the time she had drawn it; it didn't matter. Jess was a stranger. She glanced at him reluctantly to see what emotions masked his face since she had asked the question, but Jess seemed as surprised as Lena had been at her question. When he began to answer, her gaze moved towards the floor. 'Of course that's what he thinks people see. It was a stupid question to ask him in the first place...What exactly did I expect him to say?' she berated herself harshly.

"And every now and then, perhaps a glimpse of passion, and knowledge, and curiosity."

Her head raised slowly as he spoke and came towards her, her eyes wide in surprise. Lena had heard herself described in many ways--quiet Lena, timid Lena, sometimes artistic Lena--but never passionate Lena. She wondered why he thought she was passionate but the thought was erased from her mind as he continued closer to her; she could feel the rapid pounding of her heart in her chest, and she wondered if Jess could hear it.

"Though, I think the better question is: Does it matter what people see?"

At this, she lifted her chin up to look him squarely in the eye. His question seemed almost phrased as a challenge or a test, her answer deciding whether or not she failed it. She was noiseless for several moments as she contemplated her answer, her lower lip wavering slightly. "Yes," Lena finally answered confidently, her nerves seeming to disappear as she held his gaze steadily, "It does matter how other people see you. But it's the only thing that matters, and it's not the thing that matters the most."

Lena took her sketchbooks carefully, as if handling some sort of precious cargo, and looked down at them, fingering the delicate lettering on her name, then she looked back up at him again. Lena swore she could see every fleck of color in his eyes: green and brown with a hint of cold. She remembered his earlier question, "I don't discriminate between people and landscapes," Lena replies, using her free hand to brush a stray strand of wavy hair behind her ear, though it only came loose again. This time, she ignored it and continued, "I depict things that interest me. I depict things in which I see life."

[JESS MORETTI]

HE’S A REAL NOWHERE MAN
SITTING IN HIS NOWHERE LAND
MAKING ALL HIS NOWHERE PLANS FOR NOBODY

Unbeknownst to the pair of them, Jess' thoughts were traveling along the same lines as Lena's. There were many photographs of him in their apartment, though most of them featured a much younger, baby-faced Jesse. Once he had gotten older, and Faith took the slim spotlight their mother could offer, he happily strayed from the camera lens. A few school photos remained, each year's picture displaying Jess with an increasingly annoyed grimace. However, he had never seen a drawing of himself. It was far different than some surly photographer's snapshot of his gawky fifteen year old frame. There was something far more honest to this sketch than there ever could be to a simple school portrait. Jess found that he preferred the sketch, and did not particularly mind. Even if it had been drawn without his knowledge.

As Jess' observations fell from his lips, keen and ever-watchful eyes took Lena's reactions as if taking quick snapshots of his own. Her gaze fell to the floor, and he briefly wondered if his initial observations had upset or irked her. Surely she could not be surprised he hoped she was aware, at least, at how painfully shy she was. She did seem unhappy. What had she wanted to hear from him, then?

His silent question was answered as he made his additions. Lena's striking blues returned to his face, held wide (wider than they naturally were, anyways) and registering bewilderment. Color continued to brighten her complexion, and he silently wondered how hard and fast the poor girl's heart was beating in her chest as he approached. She probably thinks I'll attack her or something. Jess pondered amusedly to himself.

Challenge accepted, he read in her steady gaze as her small chin lifted and her eyes settled determinedly onto his. Who knew just the tone of his voice could draw that confidence out of her. Jess stared right back at her, waiting with an air of smug patience while Lena mulled her answer over. Perhaps she was not often asked questions beyond "What is your name" and possible "Why are you so quiet".

Jess hummed one note softly as he thought over the young woman's response. It was not what he expected, yet at the same time he was not sure what he expected at all. "Not the only thing that matters, and not the thing that matters most..." Jess repeated in a thoughtful tone. He was not criticizing her answer, merely considering its merit. "I can accept that...if you can explain to me why it matters." Another smirk curled at his lips and Jess stepped around Lena again, his arm brushing hers as he did so.

"What interests you the most, then? What do you find yourself seeing life in most often?" Jess questioned quietly as he observed a landscape of what he assumed to be her home with the casual disinterest of someone merely passing through a museum.

tagging lena callista sanchez!
words 505
lyrics nowhere man by THE BEATLES
notes look a template!
credits this was made by PARTY POISON

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[LENA CALLISTA SANCHEZ]

Lena let her weight lean against the table behind her as she crossed her arms across her chest, the soft cotton of her v-neck tank top soothing against her skin. A small, thoughtful frown appeared on her face at his first question, her eyebrows furrowing elegantly. It was difficult for her to put into words why what other people thought mattered. She had never been very good at words, especially with people like Jess that she didn't know well. Lena wished she could just point at her paintings to explain it, but she didn't think that Jess would quite make the connection between the two things. Sometimes she wondered if she was the only one.

When his arm brushed against her own, she could feel her spine stiffen. Lena had never this close to a guy she wasn't related to before, if you excluded crowds and her ex-boyfriend. It was an exciting and slightly dangerous feeling, even if she couldn't decide if it was a positive or negative feeling. On one hand, she wanted to race across the room, grab her bag, and flee the room now that he wasn't blocking her path. On the other, however, she wanted to stay here near him and let that strange combination of terror and exhilaration continue to feel her with an almost fearless emotion.

"What interests you the most, then? What do you find yourself seeing life in most often?"

His question immediately brought to mind a football pep rally they had had in high school. Lena remembered sitting in the back row in a corner, her hands itching to pull out her sketchpad and a pencil, but the teachers hadn't let them bring their bags with them. "Do...do y-you remember the, um, pep rally? It was at...at the b-beginning of junior year," She paused and licked her lips, willing herself to finish the thought, "There was a speaker there...He, um...wanted to...in-inspire us, I guess. Was asking students if they would rather be able to fly or be...be invisible."


Lena sat in the far back corner of the gymnasium, her skin flushed red because of the heat in the building and not from embarrassment for once. It was obvious to anyone looking at her that she was extremely uncomfortable and agitated; her nimble fingers kept reaching toward her side, searching for a bag that wasn't there. A few jocks in their lettermen jackets sat closest to her, cheering obnoxiously with the crowd at whatever the speaker was saying. Lena was paying attention, but there wasn't much enthusiasm on her face. She had never enjoyed assemblies very much, and this one was no different.

"Okay, okay, residents of Cresting Grove High! I know our football team here has magical powers, but what magical power would you have if you could choose between, let's say, invisibility and flying!"

Lena frowned at the speaker, one eyebrow arched slightly at the enthusiastic answers he was getting. It wasn't until one of the jocks turned to her and laughed uproariously, "Which would you choose, beautiful?"

She had been grateful for the temperature for once that day; her blush couldn't be seen. Her blue eyes widened with surprise as she stared at the guy with uneasiness, her mind blank of things to say. The guy didn't seem to mind though; neither did his friends, who seemed interested in her reply. When she didn't say anything after a minute, a second jock chortled and said, "Isn't it obvious? She'd choose flying. She's already invisible."

They turned around and continued whatever they were doing before, leaving Lena in peace and thinking about what they had said.

"That speaker...he, um, asked us if we would rather be able to fly or be invisible...," she paused and bit her lip, struggling very much to put her thoughts into words that would make sense to him, and turned to point at a picture of the lake nearby in Cresting Grove, the mountains and sunset reflecting in the water, "I like to draw things...things that are visible, and things that aren't....aren't quite as visible. I especially like eyes. They don't...don't lie very often. And w-when they do....hands don't."

She sighed quietly and shook her head; Lena knew she was doing a horrible job of explaining this to him, "What people think matters because people matter."

[JESS MORETTI]

HE’S A REAL NOWHERE MAN
SITTING IN HIS NOWHERE LAND
MAKING ALL HIS NOWHERE PLANS FOR NOBODY

As Lena described to him, with her voice breaking and stuttering, the pep rally....he was lost. What did that have to do with his question of what she saw life in. Regardless, he found himself attempting to remember. It is needless to say that during high school, Jess lacked much school spirit and pride. If he'd had it his way, during those stupid rallies he would have been in the parking lot with a cigarette and a beer. However, they were lead from class and corralled into the gymnasium to watch cheerleaders jump around and jocks throw a ball and talk about how they were going to win that night.

Cresting Grove wasn't exactly the best team in the world for anything when Jess went there.

Jess sat on the direct opposite side of the gym in the stands from Lena. Not that he was aware of this. He leaned against the corner and splayed his legs out to effectively take up enough space that he did not have to sit squished up to three other sweaty kids. He fixed the gym floor below with an apathetic stare. The speaker was ridiculous, and Jess desperately wanted to throw something at him.

"Okay, okay, residents of Cresting Grove High! I know our football team here has magical powers..." He was saying, with this stage grin plastered across his face as he gestured grandly to the sea of students. Jess nearly laughed out loud. Magical powers. Yeah they'd certainly need that to make it to state this year, Jess found himself musing.

The room roared with replies of either invisibility or flight. Jess just rolled his eyes and tuned out the rest of the assembly. Within another year he will have failed out of high school anyways. What did these assemblies matter?

As Jess recalled these high school years, he was failing to see where Lena was going with this. She saw life in those high school memories? She never struck him as a foot ball fan, or an overly spirited homecoming and prom committee member. High school, for Jess, had just been a massive waist of time. And he certainly had not felt Alive as he dragged his feet through the halls of Cresting Grove High School.

Finally, Lena began to elaborate and Jess was, sort of, able to understand her reference to the pep rally. Kind of. He nodded slowly and peered out the window with a pensive stare.

"So my hands don't lie then?" Jess turned his pensive gaze down to his callused hands. He had a small band-aid on his ring finger from cutting it the day before at work. It was Hello Kitty, as that was all they had at home. "If they don't lie, what truths do that tell?"

As she finally responded to his question on people, Jess nodded again. "Not bad, Jane."

tagging Lennnaaa
words uhh. words!
lyrics nowhere man by THE BEATLES
notesMusic! Unemployed Boyfriend by Everclear
credits this was made by PARTY POISON

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[LENA CALLISTA SANCHEZ]

In the few moments between her reply and Jess' response, her mind went back to high school. Lena hadn't seen her time spent in high school as a waste, though she couldn't really say that she learned too much there. Most of her time in the buildings on campus was spent either reading or drawing. She didn't think it was arrogant of her to say that she knew most of what her teachers taught her--she had read it all. The one exception to this rule was her math classes. Reading about math just wasn't very thrilling for Lena, so she did spend most of her time in her various math classes--algebra, trigonometry, geometry, calculus, and statistics--actually listening to the teacher.

She always sat in the very back of the room when she could help it. Generally speaking, she felt that by being at the back of the room allowed her to garner little notice from her teachers and fellow students so that she could do her own thing, whether it be reading a new book or doodling on her notebook. It was especially important when she was drawing because she didn't like people watching her. Very rarely did she have classmates sitting behind her, and briefly, she wondered if Jess had ever been one of those students.

"So my hands don't lie then? If they don't lie, what truths do that tell?"

It was easier to study him when he wasn't looking at her, and so she took the opportunity the moment offered her. His expression seemed less guarded and more thoughtful. Lena suddenly was overcome with the urge to know what thoughts ran through his mind, what his opinions were on things, what things he liked, what things he disliked, what drove him. She wondered why he was still in this room with her, questioning her and pushing her and making her feeling oddly thrilled and uncomfortable at the same time. She wondered why he had stayed when most people wouldn't have even come in the room.

Lena was taken out of her thoughts as he congratulated her on a good job and called her Jane. 'Is he always going to call me that?' she thought to herself, both delightfully amused by the idea and confused by it. For him to always call her that, then she and Jess would have to keep interacting like this. The thought was, curiously, not an unpleasant one. Timidly, hesitantly, she took a few steps closer to where Jess stood near the window. She glanced outside as well. It had been late afternoon when she had entered the community center, and now the sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains, its beams casting magnificent rays of color upon the land. It was a simple beauty that many took for granted, but never Lena. It always amazed her.

Lena looked at the colors reflecting in Jess' eyes, almost like a mirror, and she was again overwhelmed with the curiosity to know what exactly he was thinking. Her gaze traveled to his hands, surveying them and imagining what they would feel like, before replying, "I don't think it matters w-what truths I-I think they tell. What do you....what do you want them to tell about you?"

[JESS MORETTI]

HE’S A REAL NOWHERE MAN
SITTING IN HIS NOWHERE LAND
MAKING ALL HIS NOWHERE PLANS FOR NOBODY

As the light outside dimmed, with the last of the sun's rays struggling to hover above the trees, Jess vaguely recalled that he would have to leave soon. Or do I? He pondered for a moment. I'm nearly twenty. No curfew. His lips pressed together in a thin line as he considered this. Jess did not stay out late. He went out late. Typically he arrived home by six or seven, and by midnight he was slipping out of the apartment to go somewhere for a few hours. If he had somewhere to go.

Friends were a foreign thing to Jess. Therefore, he was not often invited to parties or to 'hang out' anywhere. Many a college party closer to the outskirts of town was crashed by Jess, however. Though he did not particularly enjoy the atmosphere. The crowds and suffocating odor of too much beer and sweat freaked him out a bit. But hey, free booze.

So if Jess did go out at night and he wasn't crashing some kegger, he was skulking about town and dodging any police officers on patrol. How old that got, though! Just wandering through town, listening to the silence. Here, in this paint scented art room, Jess was experiencing something new. He was feeling just as much as a rush as Lena was by this conversation, this mere interaction with another person who didn't A) rely on him for bills and food or B) think he was going to mug them at some point.

It was nice, he mused, to feel normal and not so alone for a little while. So what if I don't make dinner?

finally replied, her voice still shaking, Jess chuckled softly. "What do you mean it doesn't matter?" He asked with a slight smirk, his eyes still focused on the window. "I believe you said earlier that it matters what other people think. Because they matter." He adopted a thoughtful expression for a beat and turned his hazel eyes onto her. "Unless you believe you don't matter, or something."

tagging Lennnaaa
words uhh. words!
lyrics nowhere man by THE BEATLES
notes Sorry it is taking me so dang long to post. school has been horrid these past few weeks.
credits this was made by PARTY POISON

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[LENA CALLISTA SANCHEZ]

[-hugs- It gets easier in college. At least, it did for me. XD]

His hands appeared to her as strong, and she imagined that if she were to ever shake it, that he would have a firm, steadying grim. She imagined that his hands were often stained with oil because of how often he worked with cars, although Lena couldn't see any signs of the stains now in the half-light of the room. Her gaze traveled the length of his body objectively, very aware that his own eyes were now watching her as he waited for an answer. Her teeth took her bottom lip between them in concentration as she carefully contemplated how she wanted to phrase her answer.

A sudden thought came to her as she re-thought his words. 'What do you mean it doesn't matter? I believe you said earlier that it matters what other people think. Because they matter. Unless you believe you don't matter, or something.' A crease formed between her eyebrows as she probably over thought his simple sentences. Was he saying that she did matter? To him? The crease disappeared and she inwardly shrugged; it didn't matter, "When I said what people think matters because people matter, I meant it for myself. Not you," she replied quietly in a gentle voice, studying the Celtic tattoo on the shoulder closest to her. She wondered why he got it and what it meant to him, but instead said, "But I think...I think people do matter to you."

Lena found the courage to look at his face again, her blue eyes still slightly guarded, "To me, your hands tell me that you are strong, and...and perhaps you don't...don't like depending on other people. Maybe that you don't always trust other people," she spoke slowly, measuring her words cautiously yet precisely. Her eyes darted to the Hello Kitty band-aid on his hand and an image of Jess with a young girl appeared in her mind: his younger sister, "But you do. Trust and depend, that is."

Lena found herself loosening the hold her teeth had on her lip as she looked back at his eyes. Hazel eyes fascinated her more than any other color of eye because of the fantastic depth and variety they always held. Jess' were no exception to this rule. "There's....there's a lot more to you than what most people see. There's a lot more to you than what you let people see."

[JESS MORETTI]

HE’S A REAL NOWHERE MAN
SITTING IN HIS NOWHERE LAND
MAKING ALL HIS NOWHERE PLANS FOR NOBODY

Jess stared down at Lena with a stoic expression, though it was still clear that he was listening intently to the timid girl’s initial explanation. So people mattered to her, she meant, but not necessarily to others. Jess’ hands moved to the pockets of his shorts and glanced down at the linoleum floor beneath their feet. He noted, in the back of his mind, that it looked recently clean as he could easily discern his and Lena’s reflections in the floor. This observation brought on another as he looked back to the girl. As they talked, they had progressively narrowed the space in between them. He wondered if Lena was unaware of their proximity, of for some reason did not care.

But I think...I think people do matter to you.

He nearly scoffed at her. People matter to him? Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. Jess had decided long ago that caring what other people thought of him was a stupid thing to do. Their opinions did not matter. Really, people should not matter at all. Just look at Catherine. Jess had watched his mother crumble again and again as her relationships failed. People mattered too much to her. Tears rolled down her cheeks just from watching Hallmark commercials. Jess couldn’t let anything like that touch him, not when he was essentially taking care of their family.

Once again, Jess was listening to Lena as she offered up her observations. What she thought did not matter to him, of course. But he was curious just the same, to hear what exactly those artist’s eyes saw. His head dipped in a nod, conceding to what Lena believed she saw in his hands. Strength and independence and an inability to trust. But it was her final words that brought a smirk to his lips. Jess leaned down close and looked Lena directly in the eye, “Close, but no cigar.”

Jess straightened up once again and brushed past her.“Well, I think I should let you return to your painting. Or whatever.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He grabbed his gym bag and lifted the strap over his head so that it crossed his body.“Have a nice night, Jane.”

tagging Lennnaaa
words uhh. words!
lyrics nowhere man by THE BEATLES
notes yay for some muse
credits this was made by PARTY POISON

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