See the Sunlight? (open)

The power outage was over. Bethany was ready to thank her lucky stars. Things seemed a little too wild, a little too dangerous, being in a new place with nothing but kids deemed as 'troublesome' as her. In her mind, every other kid in the school was roughly an alternate universe version of her. At least that seemed to be a sensible way to look at things. Beth knew that she was capable of... more or less. It was a dark little corner of her mind. Filled with rage and fear and sadness, every ugly emotion she stored inside her slight frame. She didn't fancy the idea of meeting anyone variation of her in a darkened hallway with no good way to call for help. She was reckless, but that didn't mean she was stupid or toting around a death wish.

So she'd stuck around the most controlled areas, the most supervised locations. That made her feel a little safer. She chatted with the other kids who seemed content to keep their noses out of trouble. Kids like that "Ace" boy she'd met at the dinner. The ones who were more trouble to themselves than to the bystanders. Despite Ace's thoughts on the subject, Bethany was still convinced that was the better way to be.

She wandered into the activities area once the lights were on. A rattle following along with her, calling out her entrance. The rattle came from a little pencil case under her arm-rubber, shaped as a fish with cartoony bulged-out eyes. A sketchbook pressed under her arm as well. Pinned down in her arm pit. Her big blue owl-eyes spotted a cushy looking seat off to the side, unoccupied. She headed over and sat down. Slipping out of her shoes and drawing her legs up to curl up cross legged on the chair. She was a tall girl, but her limbs were so thin she folded into the seat effortlessly.

She flipped open her sketchbook and tracked down a fresh page. Then flipped back to the once previous, and inked drawing scrawled across it. She unzipped her pencil case and dug. Selecting pencil crayons. She felt like some mindless blending and shading might be the right kind of activity for the day. Somehow the drawing that she normally enjoyed seemed like it would feel tiresome. Besides, after so much time spent in dim light it would be nice to see colour. She got to work colour in an auburn colour to the hair of the girl she'd sketched out on the page. Pushing some of her long blonde hair away when it fell on to the page where she was working.

((ooc: searched through my old high school art to find something Beth might be colouring. We'll go with this girl. Right here Her name was Madison/Maddy. :] ))

Rueben was wandering about, feeling bland and bored, when he spotted a pretty, lonely girl in the activities room; what a coincidence. He was lonely too, though perhaps not as pretty as she. Her eyes were large and shiny as blue porcelain, her limbs slender, and, he imagined, lithe. Her hair was long and blonde and looked soft. What an enchanting creature; he was drawn to her like a magpie is drawn to something shiny it wants to add to its collection. She was drawing, which made him envious and curious and furious. He'd never been able to draw anything. Surely this pretty girl who could draw pretty things would color his day a pretty shade; she seemed destined to, a little too perfect to be true. Their meeting was inevitable, and he certainly wasn't going to be shy about it.

If one wasn't paying attention, it would have been very easy to imagine that Rueben had entered the room very quietly and come up behind one without one's noticing. In fact, that's what he did, or so he thought. In actuality, he more materialized behind Bethany, wearing a long-sleeved, button-up floral print shirt and matching maroon slacks; it was one of his favorite outfits. He leant over the back of her chair and looked over her shoulder at her drawing. It was more or less what he'd expected it to be; cute, blossoming with the color that she was blending onto the frame of the drawing. He wanted to touch her shiny, lovely hair, but he knew that it was too soon for that; it would just creep her out if he did it now. He watched her color in silence for a few more seconds, enjoying the movement of her hands, before saying, close to her ear,

"I like your drawing." He was actually quite indifferent about it, but saying the right thing was imperative. It was important that she was partial to him from the beginning, or it was entirely possible that she might not like him later on. First meetings were both easy and tricky; if a person didn't know you, they were willing to believe anything about you. You could be anyone in the entire world, and he liked that thought immensely. It was freeing. Rueben adopted his usual charming smile and waited for her to respond to him with anticipation.

Beth knew full well her loneliness was showing through. How could she keep all that in? How could anyone? But then, even without Samson and Ruby gone from her life, Beth was always a little lonely looking regardless. She was never the type of girl who made friends easily and it was a fact that bothered her greatly. She'd love to be popular in a way, not to say wear the latest labels and flounce about like some sort of posh thing, but rather she'd like to be well-liked. To have a crowd of friends to choose from instead of only one. But despite her feelings she still wondered if perhaps her solitariness might be her own fault. Perhaps her definition of a friend was too rigid, too limiting.

For instance, on her first night she'd met Ace. A nice enough boy and a nice enough conversation she supposed. But would some people be able to chalk them up as friends now? Was that how it worked? She'd chatted a touch with Faith whom she shared a room with, they'd changed in there, slept in there. Was that enough? Beth wasn't sure. She'd only ever had Ruby, one life long friend and their bonding over dolls and playground games and running wild in school uniform was hardly a measure that applied at this age.

Her blonde hair bounced up at the sound of speech but it took her a moment to realize the words for her. She turned her head slow to look him in the face. He was handsome, with long hair which Bethany always fancied. With some sort of patterned shirt he probably found thifting. They didn't make them like that anymore. Admittedly he was exactly the sort of boy Beth would always find herself drawn to. Except there was a slight hitch for him. In that the girl's head was still filled with the thought of her Samson. With his lazy half smile and the baggy beanie he wore day in and day out. Even in bed with her. Any attraction she might feel she pushed down, because while Samson could never be faithful to her she remained that way for him. Leading by example perhaps. Still looks aside, there was always the chance of friendship. Beth could have a handsome friend, couldn't she?

"Thank ya." she replied, her scottish accent obvious on her words. She reached up and pushed some fallen bangs out of her face and behind her ears. Sitting up a little straighter. "Where did you come from? I didn't hear ya... sneaky boy." She glanced back down at her colouring for a moment before giving a shrug and half hiding it with her hands, folding them lazily over top the book. "It's just a little doodle, thing... Yeah... nothing special. What are you up to?"

Rueben nodded at the entrance to the room, adjusting his hair with one practised hand. Narcissism was one of the flaws that he couldn't edit out of himself on a daily basis; it was too integral a part of his personality.

"The door. Like everyone else," he replied, his voice teasing. "Guess you were otherwise occupied when I came in." He moved around to sit on the arm of the chair that was stationed beside hers, continuing,

"Well, I think it's quite good, for just a doodle. I can't draw a thing, at least not sober...I guess I'm not the artistic type." He shrugged, making a what-can-you-do sort of face. In response to her query, he responded,

"I'm not really doing anything. Sitting about...scheming. Wondering whom I should spend my afternoon with." He liked her accent -- it made him envision lochs and glens and other supposedly Scottish things. He'd never been to Scotland; in fact, Rueben had never been out of England, and he hated it. He'd always wanted to see more of the world, even just take a trip to the countryside, but there'd never been enough money. Sometimes he wished that Uncle Alistair had taken Rueben with him to whatever exotic place he had flown to, but that thought was traitorous, so he had always banished it as soon as it came. Now, it was too late. He was stuck in this hell-hole for at least another year, until his eighteenth birthday. And then where would he go? It didn't seem to matter. It seemed like a lifetime away.

"It can get strangely lonely here sometimes, even with so many kids about," he said, looking at his shoes for a moment and then up again, into her enchanting eyes. Girls were easy, even girls who didn't seem easy. They might not have known it yet, but they were. There were things that almost every single one of them liked to hear. Boys were not so simple, but he always found a way to push the right button to make them light up. It was what he was good at. "I'm Rueben, by the way."

As much bullshit as he spewed on a daily basis, he was not lying about being lonely. He would have never admitted it to anyone, not even himself, but Rueben had no friends. He had no-one to talk to. People liked him, they looked at him, they gave him the proper attention, but no-one was close to him. It was his own doing, both consciously and subconsciously, but that didn't stop it from being unpleasant. If people liked the airs he put on, well, there was no way in hell they were going to like the real him. Lonely was by far safer.

"You're like cat-quiet, you know that? S'pretty cool."

She gave a little shy smile. Beth loved cats. Especially lazy, fluffy ones with eyes that held personality. She wondered if her life might be different right now if her middle-aged whore of a neighbour had owned a sweet persian instead of a lap dog. Probably not in the end. Beth still would have found her own unique way to screw herself over. Same shit different pile, that's what it would have been. Bethany's probably just lucky the woman had a pet. That it wasn't just her and her son. Her baby son. That Bethany used to baby-sit.

That was a dark thought. Too dark. The kind of thing that made Beth want to shudder (though she didn't actually, that would be contrived). The kind of thought that would make her stare at the ceiling all night and toss and turn. She didn't like those alternate reality type thoughts. Perhaps one day the shrinks working here could help her figure out how to shut those off. Beth needed a light-switch for her brain.

"I'm Beth." She paused, drumming the back end of her pencil on the notebook. Du-dudududududududu.... rapid little smacks as she hesitated. Bethany was never quite sure how much to disclose in situations like this. The line between TMI and being... cold? aloof? It always seemed blurry to her. It was kind of amazing to her that she ever managed to function before all this. She could share everything with Ruby and Samson. She missed the ease of that. In the end, as usual Beth decided to go for broke. Better to take the leap and see what happens.

"I get that. Lonely in a crowded room thing. That's me... most of the time, actually. I bet you were popular before you came here though. You look like a cool guy. With your fancy shirt and what-not, yeah?"

She turned and tucked the pencil she was using away. She always liked to focus on one thing at a time. Multitasking when other people were around, well her Grandmother always said it was rude. She'd swat Beth's hands sometimes when she drew while talking to her when she was little. Only sometimes though, when gran was paying full attention herself. Otherwise she'd never notice. She ran her hands down the sides of the couch cushion and gave a little shrug.

"I'll hang out with ya if you want. My afternoon is sooo wide open. As in painfully so."

Popular. Sure. He'd been as much fun as anyone in school; he'd been the life of the party. There had been plently of people, a lot of people, who'd liked him in London, and he'd liked it there for that reason. People had always looked to him for the next big thing, the next fun night, all the enterainment. He missed it, but what he didn't miss was Aunt Carol. She couldn't follow him here, but it was also boring and vanilla at Highgrove. Rueben couldn't decide if London was worth his aunt, and he couldn't decide if Highgrove was worth her absence. These weren't good thoughts; he felt guilty just for thinking them. Carol was a good aunt -- she'd taken him when no-one else would, when his own mothers turned her back on him. He should be more loyal.

Beth's comment about his shirt was somewhat confusing -- he knew at least three other people who owned exactly the same shirt. Maybe she just had no fashion sense. Poor girl. If that was what she considered fancy, then...well, maybe she was just really poor or something. What did boys in Scotland wear all the time? Kilts? Rueben wondered if she was making fun of him, but she didn't sound sarcastic enough for that. Beth was kind of backwards, he gathered.

"I like to think that people liked me," he replied, smiling at her, the conceit barely veiled in his voice. The next best thing to actually being popular was people thinking that he was popular. "Too bad this place has effectively yanked my social life out from under me." It had, in that his social life had consisted of drugs and loose sex, two things that were harder to come by here. Rueben wondered whether or not he should address her shirt comment, and decided against it for the time being. Instead, he continued,

"I can't imagine why you'd be lonely. You seem like a pretty cool chick." He smiled as she consented to 'hanging out' with him. That was exactly what Rueben wanted to hear -- he wanted her to himself for a while, or, more accurately, wanted her to have him to herself. If that made any sense. He'd already decided that Beth was worth having around; she knew what to say, for the most part.

"Mine, too. We can have a bit of fun." Okay... it was really bugging him. He had to ask. Looking down at himself, he finished, "Now that we're 'hanging out'...what's wrong with my shirt? Doesn't look too fancy to me..." He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn't, really. Not the way he'd planned it, anyway. It made him feel slightly frustrated with himself for not being able just to let it go.

"Naw, naw... It's totally cool. I like it." She gave her hands a quick little double wave. Shooing off any negative thoughts he might have. Beth was always something of a... quirky fashion lover perhaps? Anything a little retro, a little outside the norm really appealed to her. Likely why her make-up was so much more likely to take the form of tiny drawn on twiggy-esque bottom eye lashes then something Britney Spears or Kim Kardashian might try. Why she wore grey cardigans so big they covered over her knees instead of form fitting jeans and things. Reuben looked old-fashioned sure, but in all the best ways. She gave a little laugh, genuine instead of condescending.

"It takes a confident dude to wear floral. Probably especially in a crazy place like this. You totally rock it, don't worry." She picked at the slighty worn patch on the knee of her jeans. The kind that was obviously worn from time and use instead of by a cosmetic machine. She hoped he didn't think she'd been trying to be a bitch or something. She wanted him to like her. More than usual. As much as she wanted friends, she was the type to stubbornly refuse to bend herself. She'd put herself out there but if people didn't like her what could she do? Better to let the idea go and move on.

But this was different. Rueben seemed... really nice, really cool. Out of anyone she'd met at the home, he somehow seemed the most important to win over and have in her corner. She smiled, hoping that could convey as much as she'd want it to.

"So, you got anything in mind?" she asked, smoothing a hand over the length of hair lying on her right shoulder. She loved her hair, it was probably her favorite feature and she'd spent a lot of time trying to grow it out and keep it healthy. Where as her eyes could overwhelm and look owlish, no one could argue that her hair wasn't pretty. She'd seen to that if nothing else in her life.

"I could use an adventure, ya know? This place is stifling." Beth used to have the run of her life more of less. Life with her grandparents was barely monitored. Outside of mealtimes she'd come and gone as she pleased. Then was the group home. They'd tried to put a leash on her, on all of them there. But understaffed was the buzz word that surrounded the place and there was little they could do to handle them all. Highgrove was already making her feel closed in and out of her element. "I kind of want to run for the hills. I think this place would make you go crazy if they didn't think we were all already there..."

Rueben was still somewhat suspicious of both her fashion sense and her sincerity, but he would let it slide this time because she was pretty and sweet and he didn't want her to think he was a prick the first time they'd met. His eyes followed her hand as she stroked her hair -- it really was beautiful, shiny and a pretty blonde color. Where had he heard that someone stroking their hair was a flirtatious gesture? The only sort of body language he knew how to decipher was the flirtatious kind, actually, so perhaps it was something he'd just figured out on his own. Either way, he took it to be a promising signal, whether it actually was or not.

He definitely had something in mind for Beth, but whether or not it was the kind of adventure she was looking for was yet to be seen. Some girls got really freaked out when you tried to touch them, something which Rueben had never understood. The thoughts, 'I like you, you're cool' and 'let's have sex' had somehow gotten badly snarled together in his head; how else were you supposed to arrest someone's permanent, unwavering attention? Anyway, he hoped that Beth wasn't one of those weird hands-off girls who, to be quite honest, freaked him out a little. What was he supposed to do with them? He always ended up being quite rude and leaving them crying where they stood, which he only regretted a little afterwards. He didn't know how to handle rejection.

"I would break out with you if I knew how," Rueben commiserated, letting out a light laugh. "But I'd probably just get both of us tossed in seclusion. Nothing'll make you go 'round the bend quicker than a night in there." He thought for a moment, bringing to mind all the secluded places he'd found around Highgrove; she'd said she was looking for an adventure, so...

"There's always the woods; they're dark and mysterious and all that. But it's damn near freezing out there. If you're really not afraid, there's always the attic." His smile quirked upwards in a most mischievious manner, a smile that was known to make girls and boys alike do things that they weren't entirely proud of afterward. "We're not technically supposed to go up there, but I've never gotten caught." That wasn't strictly true, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. If she said yes to the attic, then all the better -- if she said no, then he'd think of something else. He'd find something that she'd like. The one thing that mattered was her approval.

As Rueben listed off the few adventure possibilities he could think of Beth felt her face break into a big smile. The Woods. The Attic. They sounded so exciting. Exactly the kind of adventure she needed. Exploration, places that sounded a little spooky. Beth loved stuff like that. But then, she loved all sorts of stuff like that. Ghost stories and old buildings with as much character as they had spirits inside. As far as guilty pleasure TV went Beth's tastes definitely revolved around shows with titles that included words like 'paranormal' and 'mystery' and 'unknown'. Things like that just made Beth tingle with anticipation.

There was a time when things were good for her. Where Samson would lie on her bed beside her. They'd open her window and smoke, waving the smell outside into the open air as much as possible so her grandparents wouldn't give her shit about it. Samson would talk to her about the places he looked up that were supposedly haunted about how soon they'd go on a ghost hunt together. They'd try to catch EMF readings and sit up all night hoping to hear a knock. They never actually went and did it.

But this was different. This was with someone new, and hopefully someone who didn't hold back. Bethany had spent her time at Highgrove thus far playing it safe, but Reuben and all the daring he seemed to have was compelling. She grinned, obviously game.

"That sounds so cool, I totally want to see the attic. That sounds so spooky!" she gave a delighted little stage shiver. The woods could wait at least until they had coats handy. Besides, the attic... well if it was really so bad they'd make it impossible for patients to go there. Like how her old school used to have the entrance to the stairwell that lead to the roof all chained off. There was a random couch on the other side of the bars. It always bugged Beth that she couldn't go sit on it. It was such a waste behind those bars. She got up off the couch and waited for him to lead the way. Why waste time right?

"So how long have you been here Reuben? It sounds like you know all the tricks. I only got here before the black-out, I could use a filling in, if you've got any secrets for me..."

Rueben was glad that Beth was being receptive to his plans -- this was all going rather smoothly, surprisingly so. She seemed genuinely excited about his suggestions, which made him feel pretty good. There were few better sensations in the world. He nodded to the door and began towards it, enthusiastically summoning her with,

"Come on, then." He began down the hallway, assuming that she was following, pondering her question. How long had he been here? He'd stopped counting the hours, the minutes, the seconds some time ago and just relaxed into the steady flow of time; how much had flowed underneath him since he'd been here? It was kind of creepy that the days had been slipping away from him like that, wriggling out of his hands like slippery fish, and he didn't like the lost feeling that accompanied these thoughts.

"I guess it's been almost a year," he said, sounding unsure. He'd gotten here at the end of 1964, when he'd been just about to turn seventeen -- that made something like eight or nine months. It hadn't seemed like that long, and yet it had seemed like ages. Now it was only one more year or so until he had to step back out into the world and do who-the-hell knew what with himself. "Yeah. I'll be out of here by '66." He nodded, pleased with this verdict. 1966 was a sort of nebulous promise that had to be honored by the staff and the law; he was sort of looking forward to it, but sort of not at the same time. It seemed too far away to start anticipating it just yet, anyway.

"My only advice is to smile at the staff and stay away from people who look like they want to hit you," he said, looking back at her to smile. "And be sneaky whenever you can. You'll pick things up pretty quickly yourself, honestly; this place is less complicated than it seems." Rueben took the familiar turns to the attic's staircase, beaming brilliant, innocent smiles to all adult passersby and warning looks at all resident bystanders. The flow of people dwindled -- by the time they reached the staircase, there was no-one around them. Sneaking back here had never required much stealth -- it was the getting back out without being seen that was usually the problem. He offered his hand to Beth, explaining,

"It's kind of dark at first." He planned to take her to the old ward section of the attic, where there was less congestion and more light. Really, she would have been fine on her own, but he wanted an excuse to touch her. "Wouldn't want any ghosts to get you."

The thought that one could loose track of the days here was one that would chill Bethany once it reached her. Thus far, she was acutely aware of the days passing. She'd been at Highgrove sixteen days now: two weeks and two days. It was ninety two days since she'd last seen Samson. That was a scary thing. In a mere week and a day she'll have been apart from him for 100 days. Three months was an easier time span to swallow, even if it meant the exact same thing. During the blackout Bethany had laid on her back on her bed and thought about it over and over again. She wondered where Samson was now. If he was still on trains, moving from place to place. She wondered if he'd come back to Edinburgh. Surely his father needed to start working again: someone would have given them the heads up that she was gone...

She preferred to think of him still travelling. Seeing the world and adventuring. It was better than thinking of him back home and without her. She didn't even really care that the world held so many more beautiful exotic girls for him. Better them than the girl's back home. Those dirty cunts. That hurt Beth more than foreign beauties ever could.

"Oh nice, not long left at all then..." Beth gave a little chuckle. That was a cute joke. Not hilarious, but cute enough to get a good natured chuckle. He seemed a little older than her, he'd probably be out before long at all. Much sooner then her anyways. There was that tickling thought of what he might be there for. But Beth refused to ask it, she didn't want to know for any reason beyond fleeting morbid curiosity. She'd much rather get to know the kids there without those labels. The ones smacked on them by these adults with their narrow views and textbook definitions. Beth wanted a life free of all that. Or at least that was what she'd been trying to build with Samson before everything went running away from her.

"That's comforting. Less complicated than it seems. I like that." Beth smiled softly and gave a nod. "Not so big and scary. The rules just seem... daunting, ya know? I'm not really used to having people looking over my shoulder so much..."

She hesitated for a second before slipping her pale hand into his. She didn't like that she did. It was just her hand after all. Far less than what Samson had shared with strangers. Plus, hands weren't... sexual or anything. And for all she knew Rueben could be gay, although there was definitely a little voice in her head that hoped not. instead she focused on his little joke about ghosts and grinned. Holding his hand and following where he lead.

"I might not mind that. I've always wanted a ghost story of my very own. I think that'd be quite the feather in my cap. And it could be something to tell them all when you're the 80 year old in the dark corner of the pub, ya know? Givin' all the youngin's something to run home with, tell the slut at the club to pick them up or somerthin'. But it's sweet that you're going to protect me and all."

It felt so nice to have a hand in her's again. She missed that so terribly.

"I've heard there are plenty of ghosts up here; your wish may come true," he said, starting up the stairs with her hand in his. One part of Rueben certainly hoped that no ghosts intruded upon he and Beth, but another part of him half-wanted to be confronted with a moaning, grey-shrouded figure when he climbed the stairs. It would be a novelty, something to tell people when you ran out of things to say, a story interesting to any demographic. Ghosts were universal. It was the child in him speaking up, the part that was interested in something else other than sex; the voice he was still trying to suppress. Disappointingly enough, there were no ghosts waiting for the two of them in the attic. Only the disused junk of yesteryear. He lead her through the dusty dark, continuing,

"I've never seen any ghosts myself, but you can see how people get a haunted vibe from this place. If I were a ghost, though, I think I'd pick a nicer place to haunt." Eventually, the grey, stifled sort of light began to become more bountiful, and Rueben and Beth found themselves in the old ward. When Rueben had first found this place, he had spent a lot of time looking out of the windows, just thinking. But he had never been good at introspection; his personality didn't allow for it. Soon, those lonely sojourns into the attic had just become more romantic rendez-vous, ones made easier by the seclusion of the spot. If there was any danger, he never considered it; no matter what his partners had been sent to Highgrove for, it didn't make them any less desirable to him, and no-one had ever done anything especially terrible to him. The staff was a minimal threat, a vague, listless warning in the back of his mind; he could charm a good percent of them as efficiently as he could their wards. Still, Rueben reserved the old ward for the braver girls and boys -- if he didn't think they'd like it, he'd invite them to the stables, to the gardening shed, to the summer woods at midday, to his dorm. There was the West Wing, too, but something about that place gave him the creeps. He only went there if there was really no other option, or if someone asked him to.

"Isn't it neat up here?" he asked, releasing her hand and sitting down on one of the rickety old beds. It creaked underneath his weight; it would be creaking a lot more if he got his way. "I like it. It gives some sense of...privacy. Freedom from the staff looking over your shoulder, like you said." Rueben had only been acquainted with Beth for an hour at the most, but he wanted nothing more than to feel her skin against his, would do practically anything to get closer to her, into her clothes, into her skin. There was nothing pretty or loving or romantic about his frantic need for closeness, and now that they were alone, there was no use trying to hide it. Watching her, gauging her, he waited for exactly the right moment to make a move.

"This is pretty awesome." she said, peering around. She turned around slowly on the old floor, taking it in. The dust covering the cracked facade. The spirit of the place. Sure it wasn't ancient, wasn't too terribly mysterious and clearly saw a little action of patients sneaking in and out. But it was still something to like about the place. At least for Beth. All her favorite parts of Edinburgh had been like this: the lost and forgotten corners of the city. Even if they didn't possess real ghosts: instead just possessing the ghosts of thoughts, wishes, and dreams.

Beth was one of those people who dreamed of living in a by gone era. Wishing that she lived in a time with more character: where people wore corsets and took arsenic to look their best, or the kind were they dreamed big dreams about peace over war and revolution changing the world. These days weren't to her taste, she wanted something different. She wondered when this ward had last been used, what kind of people lived there. Were they sick? Or did this home have a different purpose back then.

After she'd taken a moment to really take it in she moved to sit down beside Rueben. In truth, she wanted to explore a little more but she felt like it might be rude to focus on the room and not him. Besides, it was easy getting in there, she could come back anytime she wanted. Maybe she'd try to sneak in in the middle of the night sometime. That would be unreal. Like a dark dream. Those were Beth's favorites, even if she woke up sweating and shivering. She always made a point to write out anything she could remember in her diary when she woke from them.

"Do they check up here often? It seemed stupidly easy to get in here, you'd think if they wanted it closed off they'd do a better job..." Beth ran a hand over a length of her hair again. It was a habit of her's, she refused to call it a bad one. She loved her hair and the feel of it, you'd have to cut off her hands to stop her really. She paused and leaned back on the little rickety old bed. Letting herself take in a full view of the room again before turning her face back to him.

"I like imagining who lived in old places like this, ya know? I mean, this place wasn't always a home for weird kids, yeah? I wonder who slept here every night, what they thought about, what happened in the middle of the night..."

When Beth sat down on the bed beside him, Rueben smiled at her, the nebulous smile that could be interpreted in whichever way the viewer chose. It could be a friendly smile, it could be a troublemaker's grin, or it could even be a predatory leer. It depended upon what you were looking for.

"I don't think anyone checks up here regularly. They act like they care what we do, but they really don't," Rueben said, shrugging. "They just don't want us to get hurt so no-one can can take them to court over it." He didn't particularly care if they were caught by someone in whatever compromising poses they might end up in, but she was obviously worried. Better put her fears to rest now instead of having them ruin things later. And there she was, stroking her hair like that again. It was like she was teasing him. After listening to her musings about the nighttime habits of the previous inhabitants of this attic room, whomever they were, he decided that there would be no better moment than this one to make his move. He'd done this what felt like a million times, but it never got old, and he still needed it in the same desperate way. First contact was always the sweetest. In one fluid motion, he scooted closer to her and ran a hand through her beautiful hair in the same manner that she had done, murmuring,

"I don't know about any of that..." Her hair felt just the way he'd imagined it would, which made him strangely happy; it reminded Rueben of his mother's hair. Her hair had been a soft honey brown color, and when she washed it it was soft and smelled of pears. He used to play with it while she was passed out on the couch, incoherent, high as the fucking sky. Pushing these thoughts aside, as he wasn't sure how he felt about thinking about his whore of a mother while he was with a girl, Rueben said,

"Maybe they weren't so different from you and I." With that, he leant towards Beth for a kiss, hoping that she would reciprocate. She seemed like she'd be okay with it, but you could never tell. Women were fickle creatures; even when their bodies cried yes, their mouths screamed no. You had to finesse them first. Men were more single minded and easy to convince, but not as soft and inviting. Beth was a particularly lovely specimen of femininity; he hoped that she liked him enough to comply. Hoping that she felt him fit for her attention.

He got close and Beth didn't say a word. He was really handsome, really her type, and the soft light in the abandoned ward was doing him all kinds of favors. Beth's vision slide along the lines of his face. The line of his cheek where it turned into jaw. His skin looked weirdly soft for a boy. Samson has always been rougher. Like he always did a shitty job shaving in the morning. With the odd blemish on his cheek, born from further laziness that meant he rarely washed his face before bed. At the time, Beth hadn't minded it at all, the admission price for being a straight girl instead of a lesbian. That's just how boys were. At least that's what she'd always mentally insisted. She'd never liked the laundry list of places in which Samson was lacking, she'd always just ignored them.

Maybe there was a part of her that felt vengeful. Samson had cheated on her constantly. He'd left town with his family. There was a part of her that said that as no excuse. That if he really loved her the way he said he did he would have found a way. If not to see her then to at least sent word. Let her know he was still thinking about her, that he was there for her as her world filled up with lawyers and yelling and all the other shit she had to deal with since everything went crazy. She smiled sweetly as he touched her hair. Encouraging. It felt so nice. As much as she touched her hair there was always something sweeter about someone else doing it. Much like how it was impossible to tickle yourself. The ever so slight surprise inherent in the movements of another human being was so inviting.

Beth let her eyes close as he leaned in, knowing what was coming. She hadn't felt lips on her's in months. She hadn't felt a lot of things. Like the trill of excitement that played in her chest. And the feeling of being wanted. The last few months had, undeniably, been an exercise in Beth coming to terms with the fact that everyone in her life seemed to want her gone. As far as possible. She kissed him: fuelled by the want for vengeance and the loneliness that had taken up residence in her brain. It was this darkness that quickly had her turn what might have been a peck into something a little more substancial. She leaned into his frame a bit. But soon a wave of guilt rose up in her, reminding her that she wasn't the kind of girl who cheats and deceives. She paused and placed a hand on his chest. Breaking the kiss and leaning back enough to speak, but still far close too his face than a good girl ought to be.

"I... I probably shouldn't..." shouldn't what? Cheat? She and Samson were probably over in his mind. Why did her's insist on hanging on? No, more important than anything she had with Samson was Rueben's piece of mind. "I mean, you should know... I kind of have a boyfriend? I'm not really sure, not any more. I haven't seen or heard from him in three months. I'm not sure it even counts anymore..." She bite her lip. She'd said it. Hopefully he didn't think she was one of the awful things he was fully in his right to think. That she was a whore or a liar or a bitch. Hopefully he understood. Surely he had some kind of life he left behind. Loose ends that remained untied with he was at Highgrove.

No Miss Lark, Mr. Westwood, you should not have....
The doctor had only just arrived on the third floor, doing a sweep to check that all students were only in places designated for them. Her check had been uneventful when she heard an unmistakable cadence, it was hard to miss the sound of voices in the old ward, and followed the sound until she was met with the image of two teenagers on an old, creaking mattress, heads bought in close for what was no doubt a kiss. She stood in the doorway with arms folded softly across her chest, still wearing the dark espresso sweater and black jeans form her trip to the clinic to have her scalp checked, it was not often Dr. Zvarich was seen outside normal attire, but today was a day or respite and repair, though it didn't seem like the pair in the old ward were up to either. There was no scowl or grimace on her face, but an obvious appearance of displeasure and a severe lack of amusement. Perhaps the effect came from the very slight arch of her brow or the almost imperceptible downward slope at he corner of her softly coloured lips.

"I am sure you are both familiar, Miss Lark, Mr. Westwood, with the regulations on intimate contract, and if not you are most welcome to review them." There was a lit of sarcasm to her voice, not the harsh mocking tone but something softer and more scathing. Nadiya closed the distance between herself and the youths in a few short strides in her Italian leather boots, the low click of the thick sole disturbed the dust on the old floorboards as she reached the pair, "One of which being that the attic is strictly off limits." Hazel eyes shifted from one offender to the other as she continued, "If you cannot find anything worthwhile to do with this spare time, perhaps you should join the shift of residents cleaning the dining and function halls, or maybe you can assist in the outdoors projects." though it sounded like a suggestion, her countenance revealed it was anything but, and they would be performing these tasks separately.

Beth's lips on Rueben's, her surrender to him, was intoxicating, and if it was up to him they would have kissed until they were both gasping for air. But she pulled away too soon, ruining the moment completely, her face hesitant. He almost got angry, until he learned the reason for her reluctance; it was entirely laughable. So she had a boyfriend. Boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses...they meant nothing to Rueben in terms of getting what he wanted. He'd never had a significant other himself, and had taken to viewing monogamous relationships in much the same light that he viewed owning a dog. You had to feed and water your dog, but it was perfectly okay if you petted other dogs, too.

"It only counts if you think it counts," he replied nebulously, letting her insecurities about her relationship with her boyfriend provide an answer for her. He tucked her hair behind her ears in what he thought, hoped, was a comforting gesture; he cupped her face in his hands, enjoying the warmth of her flesh under his palms, and continued, "Besides, if he would leave you alone for three months, then he obviously didn't deserve you in the first place. Love is free right now, love is everywhere, and you've got to take advantage of it while you can." Rueben was getting so tied up in his seduction, in his clever words, that he didn't notice the woman in the doorway until she spoke. His head swiveled, his eyes moving to meet her disapproving gaze as she stalked toward them. Slowly, he removed himself from Beth and smiled at the woman, a guiless smile, an innocent smile. He ignored her stern suggestions of punishments that would surely be followed through upon later and stood, saying,

"You look lovely today, Dr. Zvarich." He made a point of knowing all the staff member's names; for the most part, it was easy to keep up, and it gained big points with them. Zvarich was easy to remember, her name, her face, her largely surly demeanor, mostly because he wouldn't have minded taking the good doctor for a ride. She was beautiful in a mature way, and she looked like she knew her way around a bedroom, if Rueben's superficial judgements were to be trusted. "I'm sorry if this is any trouble to you...Beth and I just wanted a moment alone. We were only talking; you know how hard it is to get away from the other residents sometimes. We were just about to come back downstairs; actually, we'll accompany you down now, if you don't mind."

Beth was a little taken aback at first. She wasn't sure if it counted. So did it? On one hand, she knew it was up to her, but on the other... She felt like the world had a say some how. She wasn't the type of person who could just ignore everything the outside world though about her. She never felt that strong and solitary. If the world saw her as a girl who was still in a relationship, then that kiss was wrong, bad. Even if it felt like everything but.

But then he kept on speaking and Beth brightened up a bit. Love is everywhere... a beautiful sentiment. One that Beth liked. Or at least dreamed of. She wanted love everywhere. She wanted to feel that, experience it. More than anything else in the world she wanted that to be her life and to embrace it. As much as Samson lives in her heart and as much as he so fully captivated her, Beth had to admit that life alongside him had often felt like one heartbreak after another. Every time she caught him glancing around. Every time she detected the smell of someone else on him it left that searing pain in her chest. Like another brand burned there screaming that she simply wasn't good enough. It never registered that things might be the other way around. That maybe she was the one who deserved more.

A smile and a lean in. She was about to kiss him again. She wanted to. He was such a sweet guy and before Samson had popped into her head again the first time had felt so good. Blissful even. But that was when the sharp sound of the kind of heels a woman wore interrupted them. Beth faltered, eyes wide and turned to see the woman that she was doomed to spend her therapy hours with. Quickly she could feel her cheeks fill up with colour. A tell-tale red as her gaze dipped down. How embarrassing.

High heels and that authoritative and professional voice. It made Beth feel so damn small. It was just a kiss (okay, almost two) why was that even a big deal? Where patients here even allowed to hold hands? It all seemed a little ridiculous. She shouldn't feel ashamed about a kiss, or at least she was trying hard not to.

Then Rueben spoke up. He sounded so confident. Beth wished so badly she could sound like that. Like nothing in the world was wrong and more importantly like nothing could possibly touch him. Beth didn't care about the chores, but if Rueben's words could at least smooth over any wrinkles caused by their minor rebellion... Beth would be grateful. She touched his back gently in thanks, hopefully a small gesture un-noticed by the therapist. She stood up along with him when he indicated they were going to leave with the woman. Beth avoided her eyes and cast a thankful look to Rueben's. Glad she had someone like him in a time like this.

The heel of Dr. Zvarich's boots --along with all shoes she wore far as the residents were concerned-- were always well under three inches when she knew there would be patients, residents to contend with. For one, she only wore her best footwear for those who could truly appreciate the look of her favourite designers, and certainly no matter how 'mature' s teenagers were... just that. For two it was a safety hazard. On more than one occasion she had pulled aside the young ingenue therapist and explain the impracticality of wearing something that made you walk on your toes and raised your center of gravity so to the point that a hard shove could send you reeling, and the reality of that happening in a facility such as theirs with people who were so alive to the possibilities of their baser instincts and lacking the self-regulation to resist the idea of shoving another person or worse...made the conversation almost boiler plate in it's regularity. Her final reason against high heels was the sexulisation aspect, one could not be taken seriously by their patients residents if they dressed like something out of an adolescent fantasy.

Well...that was far from what she expected from a young man and his guest in the attic, she had been prepared for the normal fare; the sullen, surly glares, backtalk, arguing, name-calling (It seemed there were a few monikers floating around about her, none of which favourable) and the generally unpleasing teenage attitude she had been in contact one way or another for near two decades. Her body language very gently softened as Ruben spoke, he remembered her name-- the proper pronunciation-- and most importantly, he was polite. Maybe there wasn't a complete lack of decency amount the young people of Highgrove.
"Thank you, Mr. Westwood, although in the future there are safer and less conspicuous places to have conversations." Nadiya stepped to the side, allowing the residents to go ahead of her. She couldn't really punish them for wanting a little peace, but the old ward wasn't the place to find it.

Rueben shot a confident smile at Beth, then beamed the same one at Dr. Zvarich. He was so used to getting his way at this point that he didn't know what he'd do if he didn't get what he wanted. There had been a time when Rueben had been unable to procure even the most basic of human necessities for himself; that time had spawned someone who knew every technique there was to attain anything and everything he would ever need or want. The type of allure that he possessed had been partly natural, partly developed specifically to draw in the emotional attention he couldn't get any other way. That talent seemed to have been magnified lately for some reason; he didn't know why, but he didn't care, either. Perhaps his charismatic affectation had just become that good. Maybe he was imagining it like the crazy person that they seemed to think he was. Whichever was true, Rueben doubted that they would get in any real trouble; chores were no big deal. He would probably just get someone to do them for him anyway. Though he would have liked to get away from this scot-free, chores weren't too bad an outcome, considering.

"I'll keep that in mind, ma'am," he replied, nodding, then giving the doctor a long, semi-smug look simmering with a mix between politeness, inexplicable hatred and lust. Shaking this off, he began towards the stairs, gesturing for Beth to follow him. Rueben knew that they couldn't finish what they had begun then and there, but he was confident that the two of them would meet again. After all, they had unfinished business to take care of, business that he was fairly sure that Beth wanted to finish as much as he did. He wasn't all that angry that they'd been interrupted -- he hadn't lost any footing, and there would be other days of opportunity. He wasn't worried at all. Descending the stairs, he murmured to Beth,

"I'll see you again later, won't I? Next time we'll find somewhere better, I promise...I'm sorry we got caught this time. I really didn't expect it." Rueben had been caught in the act in the attic before; what he was actually thinking was that she should be glad that things had only gotten as far as a kiss before the shrink had walked in. But he didn't say that, partly for tact's sake and partly because part of him really did care about Beth's decency. A very small, quiet part, but still. It was there, and that was what counted, right? So that minuscule part would find them a nice quiet place to do what he'd been planning from the beginning and the greater majority of him would carry out the rest. It was all a matter of waiting now.

Beth held back a sigh of relief. There was no knowing for sure until she either entirely obviously got off scott-free or a staff member came around to 'round her up for extra chores. The doctor seemed to be letting them go with little fuss. Finally, a hit that one of them had been an adolescent one day. That sign that they understood, had been there themselves. Instead of being born stone-cold psychiatrists without a budge in their souls. Beth found herself thankful that she had that one and not one of the other's. They seemed so untouchable and distant. Dr. Z (Beth couldn't seem to say her name, even when Maggie tried to help her) seemed more human some how.

Beth showed a little smile, reddening slightly in the cheeks. She gave a little nod. She'd love to see him again, naturally. He was cool: adventurous, smart, charming. Samson had been very smart, that was why Beth had always liked him. She liked to just zone into his voice and listen to him talk. He was well-read and always had some much to say. Rueben's words were different though. More conversational, less reading off line of articles from his mind's eye. Rueben was a nice change. It was lighter fare. Kind of refreshing.

"Yeah, for sure," She glanced down at where they were walking for a moment before she turned her eyes to his face again. Adding a little note. "I live in dorm four, ya know, if you need to find me some time." Was that a weird thing to say? Beth wasn't sure but it felt okay to her. It was just where she slept after all. Everyone sleeps. The fleeting question crossed her mind, did Rueben snore? Or maybe he drooled in his sleep? Or hugged a pillow as if it were a teddy bear? Beth had always found people's sleeping habits kind of interesting. She used to watch Samson from time to time. Ruby too. She snored: but only lightly and when she was lying on her back. But that was just kind of funny because Ruby always seemed like such a delicate sort of girl.

"Thanks for showing me that place." She added softly as it came time to separate. She gave a little wave.