Midnight Readers || Hope ||

[JESS MORETTI]

The broken shards, that had littered the floor minutes ago and that had once made up several of the nicer plates in the kitchen cabinet, tinkled softly and finally landed with an unceremonious thunk at the bottom of the trash can. Jess heaved a heavy sigh and mussed up his dark hair. He was going to give up on buying nicer dinner ware.

With the mess cleaned up, his attention shifted to the young girl sitting on the kitchen counter with a dish cloth wrapped tightly around her hand. Her face, still slightly rounded with baby fat, was streaked with tears. Blood stained the cloth, as well as Jess' shirt.

"Let's see that cut, shall we?" Jess gently took his little sister by her wrist and examined the wound across her palm.

Trembling slightly with her lower lip jutted out, Faith uncurled her fingers and let Jess ascertain the damage done. He hummed and hawed and made ridiculous faces that eventually coaxed some giggles from Faith. "Come on, Jess. Do I have to get stitches?"

"I'm not sure." Jess straightened up and patted Faith's fly away hair down. "We will take a look at in the morning, and will probably take you to the doctor to get some antibiotics anyways."

Faith's face scrunched up at the thought of the wretched too clean doctor's office, where falsely smiling nurses jabbed needles into her arms, but none of them could seem to help her mother. Jess offered Faith ice cream, so long as she went to bed for the night. There was no use in being up and about. It would disturb Catherine, who had finally calmed herself down and was locked away in her room, with music to rival an angst-ridden teen blasting.

Quietly, Jess helped Faith get ready for bed and bandaged up her wounded hand. He offered her a few good stories to tell her friends when she returned to school that monday. Anything that made her sound tough. Soothed by these cover stories and her ice cream treat, Faith was soon asleep in the room she and Jess had once shared. Jess now usually found sleep on the couch in the main room of their apartment. He didn't mind, Faith was still in school and needed all the sleep she could get. And on occasion Catherine passed out in the living room and he took over her bedroom.

Scowling, Jess grabbed his good jacket off the back of the cough and a pair of thick but fingerless gloves. He could still feel the sting of the metallic scent of his sister's blood. Just another bad night, Jess had assured his little sister as he dabbed some cream on the cut and bandaged it. She had heard that line before, and still believed it. The next morning they very well could wake up to strawberry pancakes and hash browns.

It was after midnight, though Jess was wired from worry and frustration. He needed to walk, he decided. Needed to wear himself down a bit so that when he went home and laid down, he would fall right to sleep. The ground was wet and the air smelled fresh and clean. Small comforts to Jess as he wandered down the middle of the street. No traffic past ten here in Cresting Grove.

Slowly but surely, Jess was able to clear his mind. In silence he allowed his feet to lead him along through the dark town while his thoughts wandered. If he'd had it is way, Jess would have left home the moment he was eighteen. Maybe even sooner. But with Faith in the picture, such a sensitive soul, Jess could not imagine leaving. Faith certainly could not fend for herself. When she was an adult, at least, Jess might feel comfortable leaving and finally living his own life. What that would entail, he supposed he would figure it out on the way there.

Up one street, down another, through a few yards. Jess criss-crossed the town, taking silent note of the home that still had their lights on and the ones that didn't. He slinked into the yard of one dark home and snatched up a baseball that had been carelessly left outside. His now. Jess tossed the ball up and down as he continued to traverse Cresting Grove.

He was not sure when he reached the square, or how many times he had circled it when he finally stopped in front of a familiar bookstore. The lights were dark...But that did not necessarily mean it was closed to Jess Moretti. He began searching for some kind of spare key, feeling around in the darkness. He didn't want to break in.

Without trying to be lawful first, anyways.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) LMFAO - Sexy and I Know It ( )
( NOTES ) this template thing is hard work!
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to _____.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

outfit

Hope took a shot of whiskey before letting out a low grunt. This is what she needed while doing all the terrible papers to pay the bills for her shop. It was due in two days and she knew she wouldn’t have time the next day so…tonight was her night. Ended up she had been working much longer than expected. Hope started at around 9 o’clock and the time was only racing by. IT was by 10:30 that she decided to pull out the alcohol she had stashed in the back office she never used. It was going to be a long night and some hard alcohol seemed the only way to get her threw it. But she wasn’t the same drinker as she was in college so she decided to only take a shot every half hour if she needed. Well it was 12 o’clock and she definitely needed it.

The last few months had been kind of crazy to the point of making Hope want to leave town. She wanted to tell her grandmother she could come with her to NY but there was just too much going on for such a small town like Cresting Grove. IT wasn’t even drama within the town but she was beginning to get claustrophobic. It seemed like everything she was dealing with was following her around. The people who collected her money to keep her store spoke her troubles to the people who sold her lunch and then they told their friends who worked at the grocery store that she was looking a bit stressed. Hope wanted to tell all of them to get a life but that wasn’t polite was it? Everything had to be polite or suddenly you were the wrong one.

In New York no one cared if you were having a bad day. If you didn’t get in their way then that’s all that mattered. Hope appreciated the homey vibe in CG but damn, she didn’t need her business being broadcasted all across the small town. So she finally wanted it all to be done with and stayed later than she ever planned at the shop. At that moment, staring at the paperwork she had just recently gotten used to, she missed her grandfather. She missed the person she knew would always take care of her and make sure she was okay at the end of the day.

Hope sat down in his old chair in his office, a place she didn’t dare touch or change anything in, and closed her eyes. It was depressing to think about her grandfather but it had only been two years ago that he was in her life. She hadn’t exactly given herself the time to grieve and now was not the time either. Her grandfather had prepared her for the emotional blow that was to come but it still hurt her heart each time she stepped into their old house. Her grandmother was living there alone now and that by its self made her want to cry. Hope reached for the whiskey bottle and bought it up to her lips before she heard rustling outside the main door.

Placing the bottle down Hope sat still to listen to the noise outside the store. There wasn’t a light on besides the room she was in and the door was half closed. As if that wasn’t obvious enough that the store was closed; it was midnight. Hope stood up and frantically looked around the room for something she could potentially attack with. Her grandfather’s old golf clubs were sitting in the corner so she took out the biggest one and grasped it tightly in her hands. I really, really, really don’t want to die in Cresting Grove. Please let this simply be a story to tell later on, she thought to herself and walked briskly to the front door. Taking a deep breath Hope opened the door quickly to reveal a manly figure looking for something near the door.

”There’s no key or whatever you’re looking for. What the hell are you doing?” she asked loudly. Hope still held the golf club ready to hit the stranger over the head until she saw his face. ”Jess? she asked, her voice going down to her normal, soft tone. Jessie was a regular at her bookstore and she sometimes just like watching how he interacted with the books or his facial expressions when they spoke. He was that kind of person that was just nice to watch. Hope liked him and had always wanted to get to know him better but…at 12 o’clock at night? Hope put the golf club down a bit before leaning against the door frame. ”What are you doing here?” she asked, hoping for an honest answer.

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words; 797
muse; nada
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

"Key..key...key." There had to be a key here somewhere. The store owners of this small town were entirely too trusting and often times too scatter brained to not have a spare key tucked away somewhere just in case. "What if I was on the run," Jess mused aloud as he lifted up on his toes to check the top of the door, "and my only chance of survival was if I could get into this store right now? And there is no damn key."

Jeff scoffed. How illogical. Such an event would be far too exciting for Cresting Grove. The only thing he would be on the run from is that one old woman's crazy chihuahua, which Jess believed only continued to cling to life to make his hell when he cleaned the woman's gutters every few weeks. And if that thing chased him down, it would end up with a boot in the tail.

The door, the mat, under the window, over the window...there was no sign of an extra key. Jess messed with the bricks around the door, in case one was loose and contained a key. No such luck. He sighed in irritation. Damn small town hours. What did he have to do to roam a bookstore after midnight? What was so queer about that? He bet if he moved back up to New York, he could find a bookstore that stayed open so long as the lights in Manhattan stayed bright. Granted, if he was in New York City right now, he would not be roaming the streets because of his frustration and need to relax. He would most likely be in bed.

Jess was straightening up to get ready when the door nearly knocked him in the head, and he was suddenly faced with a tall woman brandishing a huge steel golf club.

"There’s no key or whatever you’re looking for. What the hell are you doing?"

The woman demanded loudly. Blinking and bewildered, Jess leaned back and lifted his hands to prove he was unarmed. "Calm down I was just out for a walk and--" He stopped short as Hope finally recognized him. His eyes followed the golf club as it was slowly lowered, and only then did he relax and lower his own hands.

”What are you doing here?"

Well that was a good question, and Jess informed her as much. "Excellent question...Um.." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Hope was a good person, and never before had Jess encountered problems with the store owner. She allowed him to read books there at the shop, and he often darkened her doorstep on afternoons to find a new book for his reading pleasure. He often ventured to the Sanchez store, but not only was this one a bit smaller...well Hope was a beautiful woman. More than once Jess lounged against shelves under the pretense of flipping through a novel he thought interesting while Hope reorganized another shelf near by. He'd watch her; how she handled her books, how she treated her customers, and on occasion if he could catch her; how she read.

"Well I was taking a walk...and I saw your store and..had thought to browse a bit while I was out." There. Not necessarily a lie, but of course not the whole truth either. But it wasn't necessary for him to offer up the little tid bit about his plans to pick the lock. That would just bring up all sorts of nasty questions...Like "How do you know how to pick a lock?" Best leave it as simple as Hope was willing to take it, Jess concluded.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) music, psh
( NOTES ) sorry this took so long. yeesh so busy
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to _____.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

outfit

Hope stared at Jess as he put his hands up in defense. He wasn’t trying to hurt her nor was she assuming he came there to do so. She was confused why he was there so late and looking around for a key. Hope could see through his bullshit the moment he opened his mouth to say he was just out for a walk. Around Cresting Grove it was odd to see anyone out for a simple walk around their ghost town. Hope still held the golf club to her side for precaution. She trusted Jess…but the New York in her didn’t trust anyone at 12 midnight.

She stared at him as he began to rub the back of his neck. He seemed to be a bit stressed out in his mannerisms so she was expecting yet another lie. Hope didn’t pin him for a liar all of the time but she had caught him trying to break into her store. Hope had been crazy enough to know where to look for a key to break into wherever you needed to get into. Jess seemed like a smart guy so she respected him for trying but the store was her lively hood. If he thought he wasn’t going to get the third degree then he was just being silly.

But her experience with him thus far hadn’t been terrible. He was a genuinely nice person that she could occasionally hold a conversation with. He liked to be to himself most of the time in the shop but she liked that. She got a few types of people who were regulars in the store but he was her favorite type of person; the type of person who actually wanted to read. There were the old people in town who came in to browse but really wanted to know how her grandmother was doing. Then there were the teenagers who were grumpy while in her store because they had to buy books for school or whatever they were doing. She tried to make their experience as enjoyable as possible but most of them ended up just swearing before leaving. And then there were the hipsters who came in and tried to impress her with their knowledge of 2 books they had just researched. Let’s just say she appreciated people like Jess.

Finally, Jess began to explain himself and she was listening intently. ”So you were planning to break into my store and go on your own little browsing spree,” she recapped his plan for the night. A long sigh escaped her mouth and she leaned her head against the doorframe. What she really should have been doing was calling the police. That’s what a normal person would have done. Hope studied Jess’ face for a moment and began to think of all the reasons he would want to take a stroll in the most boring place in America at midnight. There was a slew of reasons that flooded her brain so she decided to give him a break. ”You’ve put me in a really hard position, Jess,” she told him in exasperation. ”And that’s what she said,” she but in with a small laugh at her comment a few second earlier. It was too late and she was too much of a jokester to be too serious with him. Everyone does a few stupid things in their life. Hopefully Jess knew that Hope wasn’t one of those people he could pull one on.

Hope lifted her free hand and rubbed his arm gently. ”You look like you’re having a hard night so I’ll let you in. But you’re my bitch for like the next month because you owe me. Trust me, it’s not that bad being endowed to me. Oh the things I’ll make you do,” she gave him a wink before opening the door wider for him to step in. She nodded towards the door so he would close it on the way in before she flicked on the main light of the bookstore.

She rarely took moments to look around and for some reason at midnight in the middle of week seemed fitting. Hope took her glasses off the bridge of her nose, forgetting she was even wearing them. Crossing her arms against her chest she looked around the bookstore for a moment. The high ceilings accented the feel of the store that her grandfather had sought out to make. In Cresting Grove he felt so far away from ‘modern society’ that he wanted to make one place he felt like he was in some different country. Hope bit her bottom lip, not really knowing what Jess was doing, turned to him finally.

Hope looked at Jess slowly and uncrossed her arms. ”You know my grandfather really loved this store…he put his heart and soul into it. This was almost more important than me. But I always understood it,” she looked away from him to the books once again. ”I guess he would appreciate someone being willing to break into this place. It would mean to him that he did something right,” she finished and looked at Jess again. ”What made you come here? Is there something going on?” she asked him, looking for his first completely honest answer of the night. Hope sat on the front desk, staring at him for his response.

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___________________________________________________[/color]

words; 797
muse; nada
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

The look on Hope's face told him she was already mentally calling bullshit. He wanted to protest, insist that for once that really was all he was doing. He supposed providing a reason for his walk would validate his claim a bit more. But unless the information was necessary, Jess had no desire to lament his family life. His eyes flickered to the golf club still held by Hope's side. Hopefully she would just call the police.

It wouldn't be the first time Jess had been none-too-gently 'guided' into a police cruiser, with red and blue lights illuminating the street. On-lookers sneered and scowled at him from the sidewalks. Jess would focus on the uncomfortableness of the handcuffs, and wonder why it was they needed to be so tight on him. He wasn't some terrorist.

Jail wasn't so bad. Not in Cresting Grove anyways. Jess was pretty sure the town's jail had about two cells. And probably four police officers. He was fairly sure two of them were never armed. One night, after getting busted for vandalism, Jess actually thoroughly enjoyed his night sleeping on the bench. It had allowed him some privacy for the evening. He had to work up some appreciation when his boss bailed him out the next morning.

The thought then occurred to Jess that he couldn't get arrested again. His boss had told him that if he ended up behind bars one more time, he would lose his job. Not that it really stopped him from pulling criminal-esque stunts. He just had to be more subtle about it. Kind of like he hadn't been this evening when Hope caught him trying to break into her shop.

Jess' head bowed slightly as Hope's tone took a reprimanding turn. A hard position she said. Perhaps that meant she would cut him some slack. They sort of knew each other after all. He was a regular of her grandfather's before the elderly bookworm had passed. Jess had coaxed his mother into making some baked goods for Hope and her grandmother. He left them back by the historical fiction section, with Hope's name written on a small card. Perhaps he could use that as a reason she shouldn't arrest him. The thought had barely crossed Jess' mind when he heard her giggle.

He stood there for a few beats in a stunned silence. Not calling the police? Letting him in? And all he had been hoping for was a wag of the golf club and a warning not to do it again. He was in such a pleased shock, that her condition of him "being her bitch" did not even register until a moment later when he had followed her over the threshold. Jess allowed a casual laugh and a nonchalant shrug. "Whatever you say," He drawled, a smirk curling at his lips.

As they paused in the front of the store, Jess took a moment to look around as the lights slowly flickered on overhead. There was something mystical and mysterious about a bookstore late at night. It left one to wonder, a reader to wonder anyways, what happens when the lights go off and the door is locked. The hot owner is in the back waiting with a golf club to bash the curious reader's head in, Jess mentally answered.

Hope turned her attention back onto Jess. "I bet he would appreciate it," he offered a light laugh, "your grandfather was a cool guy like that." He dragged his fingers through his hair and unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off. He had forgotten about the bit of his sister's blood that stained his shirt underneath. "No, uh..nothing going on really. Just restless." He lied, with the red evidence against him lightly splattered across his front.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) uh..does the chanting of sports fans on TV count?
( NOTES ) wooooo New Orleans!
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to _____.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

Hope had always wondered what the entire town thought of her grandfather. He was a reasonable man if you were reasonable with him. There was no way he was going to stand back and let something he thought wasn’t fair go down and that could either be admitted or become annoying. She learned from him every day because he always had the best stories of when he fought injustice at the grocery store or even on a larger scale; in the protests he used to take part in as a teenager. He was a fighter but never with fists. Hope recalled him saying that he wasn’t kind enough to spend energy on someone he didn’t like. The idea made her grin to herself.

Jess’ voice bought her back to where she was. One of Hope’s biggest faults was that she got so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she seemed like a zombie in the eyes of others. It wasn’t that she had better things to think about but at the moment her mind transported her to a different place. That’s why it was hard to pull Hope away from a book because the pure magic of it all super glues a true believer right to the words. Hope could go to sleep right in between the lines if she could.
”I hope so…” she commented. ”Shit, knowing him he would find some way to smite me because I’m not running things correctly.” Hope laughed and leaned against the counter. It was always cool hearing the younger people around town say that her grandfather was cool or that he was funny because her thoughts about him were proved correct. Hope only wished that she could leave the world with that type of reputation.

Hope watched Jess for a moment as he raked his fingers through his dark hair and took off his jacket. He was undoubtedly handsome with this type of rugged look…like he had been through enough for the rest of his life. That was something Hope could identify with. She found herself watching him for what felt like the 3 time that month but it was alright, she sometimes saw him looking at her too. She didn’t even want a relationship or a hookup because she had no time or emotional capacity to deal with it. But she wouldn’t deny him or it from happening with anyone. She guessed that was the life of a 26 year old. Ew… she thought to herself with disgust.

As polite as her grandmother taught her to be, Hope stood up and took the jacket from Jess’ hands before he could toss it some place random. She was going to turn away and hang it on the coat hanger by the door but she instead saw the blood that stained his shirt. Dropping his jacket Hope shook her head and looked at his shirt before letting out a long sigh. ”What did you do?” she asked him, about to potentially have a major freakout.

”Please tell me you didn’t kill someone!” her voice getting a little louder. This was one of her worst fears; being trapped with a killer but being stupid enough to believing that he actually wasn’t. It would have been all her fault if he actually was a killer and that idea alone made her want to vomit. ”Oh my god Jess, what the fricken hell?!” she almost screamed at him as her fingers without permission touched his shirt and in turn body with the blood stains. She wanted to see if the blood was dry and if he had just done whatever he did. If she was thinking clearly she might have remembered that he had taken off his jacket without even thinking which meant that the blood on his shirt didn’t mean much to him. He either had no guilt or it truly wasn’t a big deal. ”You really need to explain everything. Why there’s blood on your shirt and why you came here!” she told him sternly.

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___________________________________________________[/color]

words; 797
muse; nada
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

Books, for most of Jess' life, had been a sort of escape. When life became overwhelming and stressful, or when his mother acted out in one of her episodes, Jess retreated into the pages of a novel. When most kids his age were just tentatively discovering chapter books such as The Magic Tree House novels, Jess was boldly conquering Tolkien, Lee, and Twain as well as some works of poetry by Whitman and Hughes. In his middle school years, Jess was discovering Thoreau, Fitzgerald, and Hawthorne, along with a myriad of others of every genre and level.

It was easy to live vicariously through the romantic and wild Tom Sawyer, and even easier to connect with Huck Finn who never seemed to be able to completely acclimate to the society that had more or less been thrust upon him. Not to mention that bastard of a father. It was simple for Jess to tell himself "It could be worse" when he read about Heath Cliff, or any of Poe's poems. Reading made life easier and allowed all that went on around Jess make more sense.

Stores like Hope's provided the newest adventures and outlets for Jess. He could not be more appreciative of them. As Hope offered commentary on what her grandfather was thinking, he shrugged one shoulder. "I think you run the place well." Jess' words were so off-hand, so nonchalant, they could hardly be classified as praise. However, they were accompanied by Jess' quirky lopsided, half-smile.

She was watching him. Of this, Jess was well aware. That lop-sided smile slowly morphed into a sly, crooked smirk. Hope was beautiful. Jess was fairly sure if he struck up conversation with any male in the town and pointed Hope out to them, they would agree. Long legs, hair you just wanted to touch and tangle your fingers in, and oh those lips...So maybe it was not just the shelves upon shelves of books in this place that drew Jess in once or twice a week.

His admiration was cut agonizingly short. At first, Jess couldn't quite figure out why Hope was looking at him like that, as if she was doing her damnedest to suppress her terror. "Kill someone?" He asked, genuinely bewildered. It was rather well known that Jess partook in some petty thievery and vandalism, but he could not imagine murdering someone! Finally, it dawned on him. Faith's blood from her wounded hand was still smeared across his shirt.

For the second time that late evening, Jess held his hands up in a show of innocence. "Calm your tits," He said in great exasperation. He'd had a hard enough night without someone accusing him of murder. "My sister cut her hand on a broken plate...And.." He sighed and draged his fingers through his near-black hair. "It was just a tough night at home and I needed some fresh air and room to think, alright? Didn't mean to scare you. I can duck out now if you want."

Not even bothering with the jacket, Jess took a few steps backwards in the direction of the door.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) I've Got You Under My Skin - Ella Fitzgerald
( NOTES ) wooooo New Orleans!
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to _____.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

Hope bit her lip to hide a smile as he complimented her. It was silly of her but the store was the only thing she was actually and sincerely proud of in her life at the moment. Her career had taken a huge halt but this place was worth it. It was worth the struggling with bills sometimes and the emotions of missing her grandfather that were shoved on top of her. Eventually she knew she would have to make the choice to either dedicate the rest of her life to the store or hand it over to whomever. It was weird thinking that this store could go to anyone else but family but wasn’t that life these days?

She would have told her mother to take over but her mother was somewhere in the country…or outside of the country doing gods knows what. Hope had moved on from thoughts of her mother years ago but occasionally the old lady managed to creep into her brain. Hope was interested what her mother was doing only for the sake of knowing and then moving on. As a matter fact with Jess in the store and more important things to do Hope needed to drop the thought. It was useful for her to go in that vicious circle of thoughts about her mother or even her father.

Hope watched as his smile turned into that smirk he sometimes had when he was reading. She looked away to the floor. As a kid Hope was never very confident about her looks because that never seemed to be her purpose. Some people were born to be leaders or change makers and others were made to look good on the arm of leaders or change makers. Hope didn’t believe herself to be the arm candy. Although in high school obviously the hormones kicked in and she began to feel more confident in her body. High school was fun in the sense that she finally let go and breathed for a bit. The first two years she just did what she wanted until she knew it was important to work. Sometimes it was tough but she managed.

Looking at Jess now Hope wondered how his high school life was. She could almost imagine him getting into fights and not enjoying himself. He was mature for his age even at that moment so she could picture how it was for him then. Hope looked at him wide eyed as he asked her a question as he she was the one that was crazy. She was about to open her mouth to respond but he continued.

Hope crossed her arms as he told her to calm down. She listened to him and noticed his body language change as he tried to explain himself. That last thing she wanted for him to feel uncomfortable around her forever. His explanation made sense and for the second time tonight she jumped to conclusions about him. As he backed away to the door Hope shook her head. Picking up his jacket she held it close to her and stepped towards him. ”I’m sorry,” she said genuinely. She stared at him for a moment and crossed her arms once more with his jacket in between. ”But you have to cut me some slack. Coming here at midnight covered in blood doesn’t really leave me much room to not freak out,” she defended herself.

”But I am sorry. How about this…” she began and took another slow step towards him. ”I have some whiskey in the back that’s calling your name and we can either talk about or forget about your tough night if you want to,” she proposed tenderly. Hope ran a hand through her hair as she smiled at him brightly. ”Please stay…I mean where else do you need to be?” she asked him and took his hand gently in her own. She without thinking rubbed her thumb against his skin and waited to see his next move.

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___________________________________________________[/color]

words; 797
muse; nada
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

He stopped as his back pressed against the door, staring at Hope with an expression that alternated between stony and hopeful. He had just come here to seek solace, some quiet and room to let his mind empty itself. He did not come here to find trouble, or to be accused of crimes he wasn't committing. He supposed he could not really blame Hope for her paranoia. A girl like her really shouldn't be anywhere alone this late at night.

Ever observant and thoughtful hazel eyes followed the tall, bookish woman as she approached him. His stare was intense, as if he was taking the time to memorize the exact way her body swayed as she walked towards him. She could just let him go, Jess thought as he glanced at his jacket hugged against her middle. He wondered if Hope had just as much reason to desire his company as he had a reason to desire the sanctuary of the store.

"It's cool," Jess offered with a careless shrug of his shoulders. "I get it, I guess. Guy sneaking around late, blood on his shirt. I wasn't putting myself in the most positive of lights." He began to unfold, in a way. His shoulders had hunched forward, as if he had every intention of just curling in on himself in defense of Hope's scrutinizing gaze. He stood straighter now, with his shoulders back and chin tilted up slightly as that he gazed down his crooked nose at Hope.

At her offer, Jess perked up a little more and canted his head to the side. Whiskey? Free whiskey, even? How could he rightly turn such an offer down? "Happy birthday to me," Jess muttered as Hope reached out for him. Instinctively, Jess' fingers curled around Hope's hand as she held his. His hands were rough and scarred, the remnants of a life already well lived with manual labor.

"Well I mean..if you insist. I am your bitch, after all." He teased, an amused glint brightening his eyes.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) uhh none
( NOTES ) ehh kinda short. but im tired so there.
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to _____.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

Hope watched him watch her and it didn’t bother her. She often read these old novels of men who would watch their lovers sleep or even watch women for chapters and chapters before actually speaking to them. There was something about simply understanding and memorizing mannerisms or movements about a person before really knowing who they are. There was a lot Jess probably knew about Hope that most others didn’t. For example, the way she bites her bottom lip when certain pages get good and then relaxes her face once things begin to settle down again. The small things are what really mattered.


She smirked as he shrugged his shoulders and agreed with her. He just seemed like he wanted a peaceful night and got more than her bargained for. She liked him…probably more than she should have so she had to an ally to him. At past midnight there weren’t many people who would be. She could relate to the family drama because for a third of her life that was all she could remember. When she moved to Cresting Grove she was still emotionally scarred by how much her parents just didn’t care about her. Her grandparents saved her and while she didn’t think she could ‘save’ Jess from his problems, she could be his friend.

Nodding her head Hope let out a soft laugh as he seemed intruiged by her offer of free alcohol. Now she knew what to bribe him with whenever she needed something. Hope felt Jess’ fingers respond positively to her own as her thumb rubbed against his worked skin. Her mother, someone she ignored 90% of the time as a kid, once said to her that you call tell a lot by a person’s hands. The entire sentiment reminded her a lot of Forest Gump so she zoned out past that but now feeling Jess’ hand she could feel the work he must have completed. Callouses don’t come on so easy so as she looked at him Hope knew he did what needed to be done.

Hope was glad to see Jess’ demeanor change because that was all she wanted. He wanted her to feel comfortable in a place he came to far before she was owner. ”That you are,” she told him with a laugh. ”I almost forgot! Still holding his hand and his jacket Hope picked up the golf club off the front desk. Hope led him back to her grandfather’s office so he could actually have a relaxed place to sit. He has spruced it up to his standards so there was the whole nine yards of office space. He installed a mini fridge for god knows why, a couch on the wall farthest to the door, a small TV in the bookshelf, and his mahogany desk that his father owned. It was a nice space; not too big or too cramped. Hope looked at him Jess for a moment before letting go of his hand to hang up his jacket behind the door. It had been a while that she actually held someone’s hand just to hold it.

”Make yourself at home,” she gestured to the couch as she stacked up all of her papers. She knew she needed to finish all of this work but it was foolish of her to think she could get it done tonight. There was just too much of it anyway. Hope had the money in the budget to hire someone to do her finances but she didn’t trust anyone else with such important information. What she really needed to do was get over her fear of losing the bookstore. She was doing fine but in her life luck ran out fairly quickly.

Hope grabbed the bottle of whiskey and the two glasses in the drawer. Pouring them each a good cup serving Hope handed the glass to Jess. ”Tell me how things have been. Work and the such,” she asked him as she took a sip from her drink and placed It on the table to the side of her. Hope curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees, watching him once again.

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words; 797
muse; nada
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

Following Hope hand in hand through the darkened bookstore, Jess was curiously reminded of a dark hall way in a house somewhere on the outskirts of town, with muffled music from below slightly shaking the floor beneath his feet.

Legs for miles. That was all Jess could focus on as the short skirted, long legged, and heavily wasted girl in front of him attempted to strut sexily down the hall. Granted, Jess was pretty tipsy himself and so the girl's unstable wobbling on those high heels could not be any sexier, considering the way her skirt rode up a little with each ungraceful step.

Hell, knowing where she was leading him by the hand, Jess was perfectly willing to call her beautiful. In spite of her overly bleached hair and running mascara with make up clumped in the space between her eyes and her alcohol laden breath, she was beautiful.

Down the hall she dragged him, giggling and attempting find a room that wasn't currently occupied. Jess was tempted to throw a few lovers out. Finally they found a room and the nameless, yet beautiful, girl pulled him and and he slammed the door shut.

The sudden loss of her warm skin and slight pulse from her thumb tugged Jess from his reverie. He flexed his fingers lightly, as if a slight tingle tickled them, and eventually slipped both hands into his jean pockets. Socially awkward as ever, Jess lingered in the middle of the office, not sure what actions were within the boundaries of Make yourself at home. Surely that did not mean he could strip off his pants and lounge on the couch in his boxers.

Granted, by the way he had caught Hope looking at him before, perhaps she would not mind. The thought brought a lopsided, amused smile to his face and his shoulders relaxed somewhat. Taking a look around the room, Jess nodded, as if in approval. He had not known Hope's grandfather well, but the office decidedly suited the late bookstore owner. Hope was not entirely out of place in the room either, he surmised.

With her name floating about in his head, Jess' attention drifted to the bespectacled young woman as she gathered stacks of documents. Had he interrupted her work? And what on earth was she doing working here so late anyways? Slowly, Jess meandered to the couch and carefully sat down as if for some reason his weight would cause the furniture to collapse.

Finally, the whiskey stole Jess' attention. Free beer from college keggers he talked his way into was one thing. But free high brow whiskey with a girl like Hope at this hour? Maybe he'd been hit by a car on his walk and he had somehow gained entrance to heaven. This seemed like it so far, anyways. In a silent cheers, Jess raised his glass appreciatively to Hope upon receiving it. Like a pro he brought it to his lips for a small drink of the smokey alcohol.

"Work?" He questioned slowly. She wanted to know about his work? "Uh well...I mean it's work." He looked down at his drink, pondering. "Haven't been super busy lately. I uh...was replacing a transmission in a truck today. Exciting. A light smirk played a cross his lips and he shook his head. Jess liked cars, and he liked the labor of working at the mechanic's. It kept him busy, but at the same time his mind was allowed to wander and of that he was very fond. But talking to other about it? Hard.

Talking to others was kind of hard.

In an attempt to keep the flow of conversation moving Jess suddenly blurted, "Yesterday was my birthday." He blinked, surprised at the sudden information himself. Not that he had forgotten, but simply that he had decided to announce it like some child declaring they were now six instead of five. He took a quick sip of his whiskey.

Twenty years on this planet, and what did he have to show for it? No high school diploma. Still living at home. No car. A job that just barely paid the bills. A criminal record that probably held some special place at the Cresting Grove jail. Faith had sort of celebrated Jess' birthday with him. She attempted to bake a cake herself, as Catherine had checked out for the day. That..didn't turn out too well. When Jess got home, Faith was nearly in tears as she attempted a second batch.

Once he had calmed her down, they feasted on the batter and tidied up the kitchen together humming a Bob Dylan song.

Jess smiled softly at that and leaned back against the couch cushions, drink still held in his hand. Hope was watching him again, he noticed. Just as she had earlier, and as she did when he perused the books she had for sale. He figured he should ask her what was going on on her end, but Jess decided he had sounded ridiculous enough the last few times he opened his mouth. Best to just let the pretty girl do the talking.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) nada
( NOTES ) woo longer yay me.
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to uhhh me.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

Hope watched him for a moment as he finally sat down on the couch. Something about him made her assume he wasn't invited inside someone's shop to drink very often. Among the other bookshop owners she was definitely the odd one out. The group of owners had meetings every two months or so to discuss the happenings of town and how all of that related to their store. She of course didn't have much to say because each meeting ended up somewhere else besides business. Hope had enough of her own business to worry about that she didn't really care to gossip.

It was the best when the other older owners attempted to make her speak about her grandmother or even her mother who used to live in Cresting Grove. The looks she would give them almost made them want to leave the table. Hope loved the ole CG but damn...some people were ignorant. It was hard to speak back to them because they would hold it over your head and suddenly you're enemy number one when you walk into your local grocery.


She could feel his eyes on her as she put her papers away in a folder on the desk. Hope sometimes wondered what he truly thought of her. What thoughts were running around in that head of his? If only for an hour she would have liked to pick his brain and really get to know him. Much like herself Jess was guarded. It was sometimes hard to approach him when he entered the store because he was to wrapped up in his own stuff. Not that she blamed him because if he didn't focus on himself, who would? Hope handed him the glass of whiskey and took a seat next to him.

Hope grinned at his reaction to her question and leaned back into the couch. She laughed as she said, ”I don't even know what a transmission is.” Hope had to remember that someone's work didn't define them like she felt it defined her. Jess had other things that he would rather talk about and she was jealous. She was jealous that the 5 things she could talk about included things that would make her cry on the spot (her grandmother) or make her rant on for hours (the store). She was becoming boring and that needed to change.

Hope had been wearing her glasses all night and decided to take them off, she could see perfectly fine without them. Standing up Hope walked to her desk and pulled her case from its place and laid her glasses in it. Just as she put the case down Jess spoke up and her eyes went straight to him. Yesterday was his birthday. She wish she had known. Hope leaned one hand against the table and bit her bottom lip. He didn't sound happy or sad about it. But he did look like he regretted what he said.

”Well...I don't have cake for you but I think this whiskey will do,” she started as she brushed hair out of her face. ”I can at least sing you happy birthday,” she told him with a smirk. She wasn't a terrible singer but better contained in a room or the shower. Plus, all of his was in an attempt for him to be a little more excited about turning one year older. Birthdays, to Hope, was your own excuse to be selfish for a day.

Hope took a slow step towards him and began to sing, ”Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” she sang slowly. Without even realizing it she was channeling Marilyn Monroe in the best of ways. She could never sound like her but hell she could be confident like her. Hope continued to walk or...saunter towards him as she continued the song. ”Happy birthday Mr. Moretti,” she grinned as she was right in front of him down. She placed one knee on the side of his leg and used one hand to brush away hair that was falling into his face. ”Happy birthday to you,” she finished and licked her lips as it seemed the temperature in the room seemed to go up on her end. Laughing Hope leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Standing up straight Hope took a gulp of her drink and turned around from him for the bottle. ”How was that for a performance? she joked as she was glad her back was to him because her face read how badly she wanted to maul him then and there. Hope cleared her throat, hoping to clear the thoughts from her head and turned back to him after pouring herself more. ”So you're 20 something now,” she didn't know his exact age but she knew ballpark obviously. ”What do you want to do in the next year? Any plans?” she asked and planted herself next to him again, her back against the arm rest so she could face him.

[/font][/blockquote]
___________________________________________________[/color]

words; 797
muse; things are getting steamy haha great post by the way (:
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

Jess nodded firmly, hoping her whiskey comment would be the end of the discussion about the recent anniversary of his day of birth. "Better than any cake, s'far as I'm concerned." He assured her...but she was still talking. Sing to him? Oh boy, could this night get any more embarrassing? First Hope caught him trying to break into her store, then accuses him of murder after seeing the blood on his shirt, and now she was going to sing Happy Birthday to him like he was a little kid. Jess sighed inwardly. If there had ever been a chance that he was going to get in Hope's pants, it was surely gone now.

"You really don't have...to.." Jess' protests were cut short as she began to sing. He blinked a few times, that facade of indifference he so expertly wore faltering as he watched her hips sway a bit from side to side. He was apparently alone in a room with Marilyn Monroe reincarnate. His Adam's Apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed; Hope was practically on top of him now and he had to fight to keep his hands to himself.

As Hope's fingers brushed back his hair he let out a soft, whiskey laden breath and tilted his head up somewhat purely out of habit. She began leaning in and his free hand lifted to touch her hip...

A kiss on the cheek.

A kiss on the fucking cheek. Jess was torn between a blazing lust and a fiery fury. What a tease! She had to know that given the chance any guy in this town would have her. It was a good thing Hope had turned her back to him for the time being, so he could leer at her with a mix of malice and lascivious desire.

"That was...that was something." Jess finally managed to croak out. His lips and throat were a little dry, and he quickly remedied this with a gulp of whiskey that cleared out most of his glass. He was at least grateful when she mercifully turned the conversation away from her 'performance' and back onto him, even if it was still about his birthday.

Plans. Jess dragged his fingers through his messy, wavy hair. A line creased his brow as he thought. No one had ever really questioned what he planned to do. Even when he was failing out of high school, it was never about Jess' plans. They never asked him what he planned on doing. They simply laid his life out for him: He would work in that damn mechanic's shop until he was too old to use a wrench. He hadn't the potential for anything more.

Jess drummed his fingers against his glass and slouched forward, elbows on his knees. "If I could..I'd go up to New York City. Make a life up there doing..I dunno. Anything I could I guess." He shook his head and shrugged the very notion off. "But that won't happen. So I guess my plans are to keep doing what I do here."

He straightened up and set his glass down on the table by the couch. "So I'm your bitch, right?" He inquired with that lopsided smile. "Anything you need...doing?" Jess stood up and tugged his bloodied shirt off, leaving him in just a white, sleeveless undershirt. But at least it didn't have blood on it. "Your wish is my command...Miss Summers." That sly smile inched towards a grin as his hazel eyes turned onto the book store owner. Two could play her game.

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) nada
( NOTES ) bow chica!
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to uhhh me.

[HOPE A. SUMMERS]

As he lifted his head as she stroked his hair from his face Hope knew this night was going to end better than it started. She felt his hand on her hip and half expected him to pull her into a kiss but instead she did what she thought was best. Hope couldn’t tell what kind of mood Jess was in for the night or else she would have kissed him a long time ago. She still felt bad for accusing him of murder and didn’t know if he even wanted anything to do with her…in that sense at least

Hope couldn’t imagine what was going through his head when she kissed his cheek but she was tired of trying to read others minds. She couldn’t tell if he was as into her as she was into him or if he was wondering that the hell she playing at. Hope knew she was…desirable if she put some effort into it but with men it was so tough to see if they were interested. His stares from across the bookstore could have simply been…staring and that’s it. It’s perfectly innocent to find someone funny or interesting to look at. Maybe she was that type of person. Hope took a long sip of her drink, the self consciousnesses of being a girl creeping up on her.

When he finally spoke up after her little song she couldn’t resist looking at him. She mimicked him as he took a gulp of his own drink. His tone seemed strained and she was hoping it was because of desire or lust. For a girl so aware of her body and sexuality she could be so damn clueless. Hope eyed him as she held onto the bottle and her cup as she sat down next to Jess.

So he wanted to go to NYC. Well at least he would have a place to stay if he ever did go. She missed the big city so much that it hurt so hearing someone else had a yearning to go there made her nostalgic. ”I would never say it won’t happen. You always keep all possibilities open…even if it’s hard to,” she told him. She was saying it out loud to him but felt like she was saying it also to herself. Her responsibilities in Cresting Grove made her feel like the rest of her life as there. New York seemed like such a far off dream in her life that she sometimes laughed the idea off. But hearing Jess write out of his wants for whatever reason wasn’t acceptable.

Hope lifted her drink to her mouth as he set his own to the side. She listened to him and froze as he smiled at her. Damn him and that smile. Hope looked at him over her glass as he took of her shirt off, exposing his toned arms and smooth skin. She took a gulp of her drink and lowered it as she listened to him. He was trying to seduce her and he was doing a magnificent job. Hope put her drink on the small table next to her and stood up in front of him.

Their bodies were grazing as she looked up at him slightly, their height difference not too significant. ”Jess,” she started slowly and ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder, her fingers touching the side of his neck softly. It was weird for her to admit but she had been waiting so long to get this close to him. Now to touch him was ecstasy. ”I’m going to kiss you,” she told him, only speaking loud enough for him to hear and used her hand to gently lower his head so their lips could meet.

The kiss started slow; the best type of kisses to begin with in her opinion. She didn’t know what to expect of his lips but his soft ones against her own was bliss. Both hands ventured to the back of his head and her fingers found themselves in his hair. Hope held onto him as she moved her mouth with his, the kiss becoming more passionate with each passing second.

She had to refrain from pushing him back on the couch and turning this into more than just a kiss. Hope needed to see where he was after she took the first move. Hope let go of the kiss slowly before leaning her forehead to his. Letting out a deep breath Hope had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss someone she had a deep seeded attraction for. Often times it was people she hadn’t know for that long and just felt like hooking up. Lately she wasn’t up for that so kissing Jess came at the perfect time.

”Do you know how many times,” she whispered and gently pushed her body into him so he could sit on the couch. Hope continued, ”…you have come to this store and I’ve stopped everything…just to look at you. Hope bit her lip and placed her hands on his chest, not putting any pressure because all she wanted to do was just feel him. ”I see you look at me, too,” she sat on his lap, facing him. She bought her head to his neck and kissed it gently, savoring the moment in her mind. ”I can stop if you’d like me to,” she told him, not caring to hide the desire that her voice was drenched in. ”You are the birthday boy,” she told him with that smile of hers.

[/font][/blockquote]
___________________________________________________[/color]

words; 797
muse; things are getting steamy haha great post by the way (:
outfit; click
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

[/center]

[JESS MORETTI]

After his shirt was discarded, it was as if the world had gone into slow motion. He watched Hope set her drink aside, acutely aware of her hands—those fingers just perfect for flipping the pages of a book…or tangling themselves in his hair. Painfully slowly, she rose to her feet and he watched her expression morph into one of pure desire. For a split second, time sped up beyond his comprehension and she was suddenly almost pressed against him, those fingers of hers brushing his neck.

A shiver crawled up his spine as her voice reached him from some far away plane. His name, she was saying his name. His lips opened somewhat and his eyes fell closed for a fraction of a second, just replaying the way his name fell from her lips. He wanted her to say it again—No, he wanted her to gasp it, scream it even. He wanted those nails that lightly tickled his neck now to dig almost painfully into his back.

So focused was he on all the things he wanted her to do, and all that he wanted to do to her, that Jess nearly missed her declaration, almost as sweet as the simple utterance of his name. Her hand met no resistance as she drew him down to meet her lips. So soft and warm. His heart beat a tattoo into his chest and his blood felt like it was on fire. But the kiss, and everything else around them, was slow. For now anyways. It seemed that as his heart rate quickened, the pace of their kiss quickly followed as several years’ worth—for Jess, at least—of passion and desire poured forth.

As Hope’s fingers dug into his messy hair, one bare arm wound around her waist, pulling her more firmly against his chest. His other hand rested at her hip and a few fingers hooked into the waistband of her leggings. If this was somehow the universe’s way of balancing out Jess’ recent luck, he was not about to let the gift go unspent.

It had honestly been ages since Jess had been given the chance to touch a girl, let alone kiss one like this. He had been overwhelmed with work and caring for his family, Jess hardly had time for himself anymore. Oh, how long had it been since his blood pumped like this, to where his brain practically shut out everything else but this one thing. This one person. The hand that toyed with the waistband of her leggings sought new territory and slipped beneath her loose fitting top, curious fingers exploring this new, smooth terrain.

Suddenly his back collided with the couch cushions, and for a moment he wondered if he had gone too far. But then it registered in his mind that Hope was talking, whispering to him in that soft, sensuous voice that had every nerve in his ears on overdrive, desperate to catch every soft sound that rolled off her tongue. His breath caught in his throat as the meaning of her words clicked in his mind. “I love looking at you.” He said, before he was even aware that he had regained the ability to speak.

His chest rose and fell quickly, as it seemed that he could not possibly get a sufficient amount of air into his lungs. But none of that mattered, not as she settled onto his lap and her lips brushed feather light kisses along his neck. She was speaking again, but for the time being his brain had ceased all language functions. He was able to discern the word “Stop” at first. Stop? Stop?! No, he thought, go! Keep going! Blaze through every green and even the red lights.

Jess managed to give his head the slightest of shakes before he tugged Hope down, pressing his lips to hers and roaring ahead from zero to sixty in two seconds. Once again a strong arm was wrapped around her waist as that curious left hand sneaked beneath her shirt and began familiarizing itself with the hot flesh hidden under the fabric. Meanwhile, a few levels up, his lips moved fervently against hers.

How long had she wanted this? Certainly not as long as he had. But damn, if she had been watching him as he had longingly observed her in this bookshop, why had this not happened sooner.

Still practically blind and deaf to the rest of the world, Jess somehow managed to maneuver Hope onto her back on the couch, with him hovering on top, hot lips leaving hers and seeking out the curve of her throat. He lightly tugged at her shirt, a silent demand for her to make it disappear as he sat up to shed his own.

Happy birthday to me…

( TAG ) Hope!
( WORDS ) i cant count.
( OUTFIT ) click!
( MUSIC ) nada
( NOTES ) Ooohh baby it's gettin' hot in here. you can call FTB whenever you feel is appropriate!
( CREDIT ) by SELF RIGHTEOUS SUICIDE. at caution. banner to uhhh me.