erinevrly

[erinevrly]

“Pft, of course, you won’t do that. You’re all talk, baby. We both know that,” she challenges, smirking in a silent invitation. Bring it on, she thinks, provoking him for the sole fun of it even though at this point she should know better than to play this dangerous game. She tries to keep a straight face but a giggle escapes her lips, the sound of his laugh making her feel all warm and tingly on the inside. “Well, what’s in yours, hm? Poems about how pretty my eyes are? I’m not trading secrets for nothing.” She wants to dodge the question, blushing furiously as her hand finds his shoulder and gently ushers him out of the bathroom. “Thank you, honey.” The ice cube’s nearly melted now, her heel numb but at least it no longer burns. She stands up to throw the soaked paper towel away and double checks to make sure the door’s closed and the singer’s not coming back before taking care of that other business. She’s finished just in time, washing her hands when she hears the knocking on the door. She can’t help but think that’s very sweet and gentleman-like of him. “Come in,” she calls out in a sing-song voice, wiping her hands on the towel that she hopes is his and not Steven’s. “My savior,” she coos, throwing her slender arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. She tends to be a bit dramatic at times, but this little love fest is not just for show. She genuinely appreciates him going out of his way to make her feel comfortable. “My heel feels much better, you know? You were right.” Though, she suspects the stinging sensation will return as soon as her skin begins to warm up again. “What’d you get me?” She lets go of his neck to check out the items in his hands.

“You REALLY think I won’t grab a couple of ice cubes of my own and put ‘em down your panties? Ohhh, girl,” he shakes his head, “you’re so wrong then, you’re so wronggg.” he laughs deviously, he’ll do it just to make a point— how does she really think he won’t do it? “Why? What’s in it? Anything dirty?” he taunts, another laugh sounding from him while he’s getting a towel out. “Yeah, sure.” Not suspecting anything, he sits the towel down and is already taking the flashlight with him while leaving the candles, “Nah, that’s dumb.” Shaking his head while he leaves, finding that kind of childish and stupid to do something like that. He’s gone for three minutes before coming back again with socks, boxers and a black short sleeved Led Zeppelin shirt for Erin to wear. “I’m back.” he announces, giving the door a knock before gently pushing his way in.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987. #hes so cute :'))) knocking before walking in :')) omgosh my heart

[erinevrly]

“Mhm, sure, I’d like to see you try,” the curly-haired model muses, a gleam of mischief in her pale blue eyes, never shying away from a challenge. Although she won’t admit it, deep down she’s almost just as rotten and maybe even more competitive than her boyfriend, which, now that she’s thinking about it, is probably part of the reason why they fight so often. Neither of them knows when to stop. “Hmm, maybe… Well, I’ve had this diary since November 1985 so before I met you.” She hints, the color in her cheeks deepening. “But there’s also an entry from the night we first met, and I don’t think I want you to read that.” She fell in love that night, gushed over his eyelashes and hands and the color of his hair in paragraphs, poured her heart out onto those pages as soon as she got home. She’d rather chew that diary up than let him read cheesy entries like that. “Oh, hush now. It’s a natural thing, you say that yourself.” To be curious about your significant other’s body. She sticks her tongue out at him and gently kicks him in the shin with her good foot. He should be grateful that’s the only part of him that she can reach from where she’s sitting on the toilet because she originally intended to aim for his butt. “Yeah?” Unsure if she can trust him, she feels like she’s crossed a few lines today and annoyed him to the point where he’s ready to retaliate so she wouldn’t put it past him to just leave her in the bathroom. Naked. Then again, she begins to feel bad for assuming things, figures maybe she’s projecting. Just because she’d be willing to start a serious prank war if he pushed her to her limits, doesn’t mean he’d do the same. “If that’s not a problem, can you go get those clothes for me now?” She asks in a sweet, sing-song voice, the one she always uses on her mother when she really wants something. It’s not just about clothes, though. She needs to get rid of him for a minute or two. Sitting on the closet toilet, she’s realized she actually has to go but won’t in front of him. “I don’t know. Sounds like it could be revenge for tonight. I mean, I… I wasn’t the best girlfriend in the world.” She’d understand if he wanted to play a prank on her and get her back for being a pain in the butt.

“I’m takin’ that as a dare. I definitely will grab a couple of ice cubes and stuff ‘em down your skirt if I don’t drop you on your ass.” That’s one he won’t hesitate to do. He tells her while ignoring whoever he woke up in the living room. “Oh. Why so? Got somethin’ to hide in your diary?” The redhead taunts, smirking to himself. “So you do like staring at me in private places? Ohhh, that’s neat to know, bitchin.” His taunting goes even further now, so she isn’t the little innocent minded ass she portrays herself to be. He’s grinning until his cheeks hurt at this. “Is that seriously it? I won’t do that, I didn’t even have any pranks like that on my mind.” Her mind can be a really confusing place, when it wasn’t something he was thinking of doing at all— makes him believe he shouldn’t believe her because where did she even come up with the idea? “Yeah, why not? That’s not a problem. I can go get you a shirt of mine now, if it’ll make you feel better or get you one after the shower. Whichever you want me to do.” But speaking of that… was she really going to get in there with him? It sounded made up. There’s no way she’s being honest right now. “I promise, I won’t do that. Why would I?“ Returning the quick kiss, then looking down at her in the candle lit room.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987. #YODELING RN #THE WAY HES WONDERING IF SHED REALLY SHOWER WITH HIM

[erinevrly]

Erin shrieks when Axl lets go of her legs, holding onto him for dear life, but then erupts into a fit of giggles. The ice cube must have landed somewhere on the couch because they can hear Steven’s slurring, groggy voice asking, “Yo, wha’s dat?! Which of you assholes… Ah, fuck it.” Unbothered by what she believes are empty threats and clearly humored by how the situation’s played out, Erin presses her plump lips to her boyfriend’s cheek and smooches it loudly. “Nice aim, but hey, we both know you wouldn’t do that. Besides, I was just trying to help you cool down. It’s hot in here.” And stuffy. It once again makes her wonder how Axl sleeps in a place like this. “I don’t think I’ll let you read the whole thing, only selected pages,” she murmurs, figuring some bits are too personal. Especially the pages where she gushes over how handsome and sweet he is. She also makes a mental note to herself to rip out those entries from before they were in a relationship, the ones in which she talks about her celebrity crushes. Jon Bon Jovi would immediately become Axl’s nemesis, she’s sure of it.  “I’m not a perv. I don’t purposely look down there. It’s just… It’s hard to miss, okay?” Blushing furiously, she quickly realizes she said too much and basically confirmed his suspicions and it makes her want to kick herself. “Like you don’t eye me up, perv,” she huffs defensively, falling right into the trap he’s set for her and getting all worked up. “Because I don’t trust you not to leave me here naked in the shower.” They’ve played worse pranks on each other, but still, she’s not in the mood and doesn’t have the energy for that tonight. She lets go of his neck and carefully slides off his back, looking down at her feet to make sure she doesn’t step into something gross. “Thanks for the ride, baby,” she coos with a giggle, leaning in and planting a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. “If you bring me clothes and promise to turn the flashlight off, I might consider it.” Showering with him. She’s mostly just trying to trick him into doing what she wants, but then also thinks that in almost complete darkness, he wouldn’t be able to see anything really and with the water running cold, it would be a quick shower. And she could always later on throw it in his face when he accuses her of being a prude or tells her she doesn’t trust him. “Well, better cold water than no water,” she sighs, inspecting the closed toilet lid before sitting down. She folds the half-soaked paper towel over the melting ice cube and carefully presses it to her aching heel. It stings at first, but then comes a wave of cool relief, the pulsing, burning sensation ebbing away even if only for a moment. “Pinky promise? You wouldn’t leave alone and naked in here, would you?” She narrows her eyes at him, still very much unsure.

“Fuck,” Immediately he reaches back, fingers tear for the ice cube pressed to his neck as he also lets go of her legs, throwing it across the kitchen then through the opening that lands it in the living room. “Fuck off. Or next time I’m gonna drop you flat on your ass.” he’s still shivering from that. “Mhm, I’ll make sure to.” To get him grimy paws on that diary, it’d be too much fun prying into it. “Uhh, stop stalking how tight my pants are perv.” he taunts just for payback, since she’s having so much fun teasing and annoying him. “Why? Are you showering with me? No, you aren’t clearly. So why the need to go back upstairs? It’s too far.” he shakes his head, pushing his way in the bathroom after taking one of the candles and sitting it down on the peach colored sink. He turns his flashlight on next, sitting it against the wall to illuminate light towards the ceiling. “In the cold water?” She’s not too spoiled for a cold shower? He’s shocked, but won’t tell her that. “So then I’ll just go up and get the stuff while you shower after I do. What’s so difficult about that?” he wonders, crouching down to gesture her to climb off now.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987.

[erinevrly]

Loving how easy it is to get the other all worked up and frustrated, Erin stifles a laugh and continues to tease him, “Mhm, that’s what you want your friends to think, that it’s just a song book full of lyrics and poems and stuff, but I know better.” She giggles and presses one of the ice cubes to the nape of his neck, that’s what he gets for cussing and lying. “Oh, my diary is full of gossip. You’d love to get your grimy paws on it, huh?” She doesn’t even try to deny the obvious — she does have a diary and pours her heart out onto its pages. No shame in that. “I thought it only worked for burns.” Clearly, it’s anything but common knowledge for a person who’s been sheltered all her life. When Erin was little, she was a pretty active kid, loved to climb trees and ride her bike around the neighborhood but her mother was never far away, always keeping a watchful eye on her, ready to help her down or catch her. She always wore a helmet and knee pads, and played on the safe side. Of course, she’d skinned her knees and elbows a few times, but again, Venetia took care of everything for her. “You know, it’s really not that hard to prove you’re a man when you wear pants this tight, unless you’re trying to tell me something…” She chuckles, blushing furiously because it seems like such an inappropriate subject to discuss so openly. “Yeah? Thank you. Gosh, I’d be a horrible nurse.” She accepts the paper towels gratefully, wrapping them around the ice cubes. A wave of warmth spreads throughout her numb palm and fingers, making them tingle with relief.  She wonders if he sometimes thinks she’s an alien. Probably.

“No, please, Axl…” She whines like a child, seeing the other’s ignoring her and heading straight for the bathroom. Her lower lip jutting out. Gosh, she really does have to spell everything out for this man. “You can leave me here if you like, I’ll wait for you, take care of my foot,” she imagines he must be aching by now, tired after the show and carrying this 100-pound backpack around, “but go back upstairs and bring us some clothes. Well, bring meclothes, at least.” She hopes he won’t mind sharing his clothes with her because she doesn’t even have spare underwear with her. “A T-shirt and socks? And,” she lowers her voice, basically whispering in his ear, “undies, too, okay?” A T-shirt because her top is anything but fresh now, clinging to her skin and soaking up sweat. Socks because she doesn’t want to walk back barefoot after a shower, and feels bad asking him to carry her. And boxers because she’d rather wear his underwear that’s clean than her own for another twenty-four hours. “I want to take a shower too. I feel all sticky and gross.” It’s the humidity, she tells herself. No AC, not a single window cracked open, the odor of mold and bodily fluids and cigarette smoke. She can feel the leather of her skirt clinging to her thighs, a bead of sweat running down the side of her neck and down between her breasts. Gross. She would kill for a quick, refreshing shower. “And I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking out with nothing but a towel around me.” 

“How is it a fuckin’ diary when all it’s full of is half assed poems or songs? Diaries are when you gossip all day in it.” he corrects, rolling his emerald hues in the dark. “Apparently, that’s what your diary says. Takes one to know one.” Now he’s got a good guess…that’s probably exactly what she writes in hers and now he smirks. “I mean, yeah. As a kid I’d put ice packs on blisters and it helped then.” And he also thought it was common knowledge but he guesses not. “How do you know, exactly? That I ain’t a lady. You can’t really prove it.” he speaks amusingly, but got him thinking how did humans come to distinguish each person a woman or a man. A girl or a boy. Just by features and voices? “That’s why you put ‘em in a cloth or a paper towel, Erin.” he shook his head, going over to then paper towels next until they can get to the bathroom. He finds them and rips a few off before holding them behind him for her to take. “Well, that’s a mystery.” And things like that make him believe that maybe God is real. When no one else can touch ice all day and live in it, but a specifically designed bear can? “Nah, fuck that. I’ll just wear a towel back up there, it’ll be fine.” he disagreed, starting to walk back down the hall and to the bathroom while the electricity blinked. It gave him a fleeting hope before it went dark again, though maybe the cold shower won’t be so bad when he’s burning up anyway with the window units cold air shut off for the last hour. Beginning to make the apartment feel stuffy and humid, the groupie intimacy happening on the couch didn’t help things.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987. #lmbooo poor erin :') you know it's bad when she's willing to wear boy undies lol #she'll remember to bring extra clothes with her next time

[erinevrly]

#musings. #otp.

[erinevrly]

#rcsechild #look at this :')) calling us out lol #but we do this for the sheer fun of it :'))

[erinevrly]

“Is too,” she teases in a sing-song voice, giggling even as his fingers curl around her thigh and pinch the soft flesh there. She wants to swat them away, but then reminds herself that she actually doesn’t want him to let go. “Axl has a diary. Axl has a diary,” she chants in his ear as payback, her lips brushing against his skin. Her voice is barely a whisper now, but carries a silent threat — if he pinches her again, she’ll make sure everyone in the house hears about his little secret. “I bet you do just that, bet there’s gossip on every page. And stuff like, Dear Diary, Erin is driving me crazy and yet I’m head over heels in love with her.” She adjusts her grip on his neck, making sure she doesn’t get bucked off for this one. “Really?” Her brows furrow in confusion, sensing some sort of trap. He’s agreed way too easily. There has to be a catch. “No, honey, you’re no lady,” she insists, trying to stifle a laugh. “Well, you’re the one suggesting it so I thought you’d tried it before or something.” As for the freezer don’t melt that fast thing, she decides she’ll believe it when she sees it. “Hey, careful. You’re the only horse I’ve got and our journey’s not done yet.” She can worry about his safety and still giggle every time he bumps into something. “I’m so tall now. I feel like a giant. I can see the top of the fridge,” she coos in wonderment when they reach the kitchen. She actually uses the flashlight to guide them now, thinking there’s beer bottles and trash on the floor and not wanting Axl to step into something. “Thank you.” She opens the freezer and, much to her surprise, a blow of cool air hits their faces, slender hand reaching inside, easily fishing out two ice cubes. “Got ‘em.” She then uses her wrist to close the top door, goosebumps dotting the nape of her neck. “Hold me tight, okay?” There’s the flashlight in her left hand, ice cubes in the right one, and she can’t really hold onto him like she used to. “Ugh, these are so cold, Axl. How come polar bears can walk on ice and their paws don’t get numb?” Her fingers and palm are already tingling, and not in a pleasant way. “Wait, we have to go back to your room. We didn’t take any clothes with us, you know, to change into?” Does he plan on taking a shower and then putting the same stinky undies on his butt? She thinks not.

“It ain’t a fuckin’ dairy. I write down poems n’ songs n’ shit down in it. I don’t ever sit and write about my day and gossip n’ shit like you girls do. Especially Californian girls.” Dishing it back to her with a smirk, squeezing her leg with all of his fingers as a gentle ‘pinch’. “I don’t know…maybe some select pages.” Some of it is personal. As in, deep and dark and kind of embarrassing to let people read those pages. “Then I’m a strong willed lady too.” he snorts, “I don’t know, do you think it would? It is your foot, not mine.” The singer points out the obvious, shaking his head that she doesn’t seem to know coldness does help with blisters. “And yes, I do have ice cubes. The freezer don’t melt that fast.” Axl informs, making a u-turn and going back down the hall to cross back into the kitchen as his cheeks dimple and a few laughs escape him at the kisses she smothers him with and he’s half blind bumping into things. “Just reach up top and grab one out of the ice bucket thing.” He stops in front of the fridge, waiting for her to open the top door where the ice cubes are at in the freezer part. “You’ll be a polar bear for sure after your foot freezes up and me, after I wash my head in freezin’ cold water.” he chuckles, not looking forward to that.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987.

[erinevrly]

“Mhm, one of many, I believe.” She briefly wonders if he’ll ever take her to his hometown, show her all of his favorite places in Indiana and introduce her to his family and childhood friends. “Oh, is that what Indiana boys call their diaries? Must be another cultural difference, hm?” She snickers, nuzzling her cheek into his teased hair as her arms curl a little tighter around his neck. It’s adorable, she thinks, the lengths he’s willing to go to prove he’s a manly man. “Will you show it to me later tonight? Your song book?” If it’s only a song book and not a diary with personal notes, she figures it shouldn’t be a problem. “Pft, my mom would tell you that I’m not stubborn or mouthy. I’m just a strong-willed young lady, you better remember that,” she giggles, recalling those few times, years ago, when Venetia had to defend her bratty middle child from her posh, stuck-up friends at different gatherings, cookouts and pool parties. “Would that help?” She wonders out loud, not sure if he’s offering her good advice or trying to trick her. She’s used to using ointments and colorful bandaids, but she’d put about anything on her sore heel if it could make the pain go away. “Do we even have any ice cubes?” With the power out, they’re probably melting already. 

“Yeehaw!” A fit of giggles rumbles from somewhere deep within her chest, her eyes sparkling with glee as the other takes a hold of her legs and takes them downstairs. “How do you heel this breed into a trot? Can it go any faster?” She inquires playfully, peppering kisses across whatever part of his face she can reach. The fingers of her left hand are curled around the flashlight, but she does a poor job at actually lighting their way, more focused on teasing and kissing him than making sure he doesn’t break both his legs. “Oh, that’s —” She trails off, unsure what to say. I’m sorry seems insincere and repetitive at this point, and what else could she say? All these years and it’s not once crossed her mind that hot water, something she’s always taken for granted, is some sort of privilege. It’s only now dawning on her that it clearly is as there’s so many people and children that have to go without it. It breaks her heart. The only time she had to take a cold shower was when her sister had already used up all hot water and she didn’t want to wait. “We can play a game,” she suggests with a shy smile, trying to make light of the situation. “Pretend we’re polar bears. Polar bears love cold water, so do seals and penguins and… Mermaids.” She keeps rambling just to keep her mind occupied, make sure she doesn’t accidentally overhear something nasty as they cross the living room.

“Yeahh, sure it’s a cultural difference, uh huh.” he nods, voice feigning sincerity. “In my song book. You mean.” Greens playfully roll, she didn’t even have any idea what she was talking about. “Yeah, I know. Cause you’re so mouthy and stubborn like me.” he chuckles, they were definitely alike in this way and undoubtedly why they fought so much. “Maybe you can put an ice cube on it?” he suggests, unsure what else could make her heel feel less painful. “I’m the horse, then.” Letting her take the flashlight, he makes horse sounds before grabbing onto her legs and taking them out of here and back downstairs. “We didn’t always have hot water growing up at times, so I’ll just have to suffer it out like I did then.” Can say he definitely experienced a thing or two growing up in poverty as he watches each step before coming back down into the living room. Steven over on the couch with two naked girls in his lap, pulling the blanket over them while they’re tangled up in each other trying to quieten down once they hear them come down, but Axl ignores them completely and quickly moves by them to get down the hall to the bathroom.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987. #song book :')) pls he cracks me up every time

[erinevrly]

@rcsechild ; dada & baby rose 🥹♥️💙

#rcsechild #family. #baby rose.

[erinevrly]

“Cultural differences,” she muses with a playful smile, waving her hand dismissively. “You should write about it in your diary.” Teasing the other, she refuses to call that notebook of his a journal just because it seems to her that he prefers this particular term over its more feminine equivalent. Girls have diaries, boys have journals. “The day you convinced Erin Everly. That doesn’t happen often, I assure you.” It’s happened today only because she’s too tired to keep this conversation going, and because it doesn’t look like they’ll have to worry about contraception anytime soon. “A nasty boo-boo, huh?” She sighs, pouting and looking for sympathy as the other examines her wound. Whoever invented high heels didn’t do women any favors. “Aww, thank you. Such a kind gentleman you are, Mr. Rose,” she coos, giggling as she leans in and coils her slender arms around his neck. She clings to his back, her thighs curling around his hips. She even gives him a chaste cheek kiss. “I’m a monkey now… Or a cowgirl,” she babbles on, more giggles spilling from her lips. “I can hold that.” She wiggles her fingers in front of his face to signal that she can at least hold the flashlight for him. “Wait, if the power’s off, does that mean there’s no hot water?” She figures the majority of water heaters run on electricity, so it’s only logical that once the power’s out, there’s no hot water. That’s gonna be an interesting shower then. 

“Not that I KNOW of.” he played, rolling his eyes in a lighthearted way. “Yeah, exactly.” Axl agreed, baffled that she was agreeing and not going to give him more hell for it. But he definitely won’t question it, even if part of him wants to. “What?” Looking back behind him after the singer stands, putting the flashlight on whatever he finds she’s pointing towards with her foot. Once he found the blister… that looked red and rubbed raw like his feet in cowboy boots, so he knew how horrible that felt. Even though, she probably deserved it tonight for cheating on him. “Well, if that’s what he gets paid in…okay.” he smirks, getting down on his knees in front of her, back turned towards Erin while he holds the flashlight in one hand and waits for her to climb on. He has to submit for affection and someone to wash his hair for him.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987. #FOR CHEATING ON HIM jkfsndf the way i giggled reading this

[erinevrly]

❛  i don't know if i can forgive you.  ❜

Erin remains silent as Axl’s words resonate throughout her entire being, her hands folded awkwardly in her lap, teeth chewing on her quivering lip. Her eyes are red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears, avoiding his own in a desperate attempt to keep what’s left of her composure intact. “I —” she begins shyly, but a combination of guilt and anguish floods her heart and overtakes her delicate features, and she has to pause for a moment. It’s unlike her to be so quiet in a confrontation, so calm and timid, but this time even she can see that there’s simply no condoning what she’s done. There’s no fire in her because she really did cross the line here, messed up big time. “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m asking you to try and understand me.”

It all started at the beginning of April. She could tell that he was growing more and more impatient, more agitated with her. They barely saw each other. He spent more time with his friends or at the studio than with her. After all, he’d already given her six months to grieve and heal at that point and really wanted to try again, start a family. She’d thrown every excuse under the sun in his face — she’d just renewed the contract with Wilhelmina Models, things were expected of her, he had his own commitments and deadlines to meet, the new album and Use Your Illusion tour, he would barely be home. But he had some sort of solution for every issue she presented, and she’d eventually ran out of arguments to support her cause. It seemed right at the time, lying that she’d made up her mind and got off birth control and wanted the same thing — a baby, the sooner the better. She originally planned to buy herself more time. She never thought he’d find her pills, but he did, whether by accident or because he’d been suspecting something all along remains a mystery and doesn’t really matter now. Her secret’s out and she doesn’t think she can do anything to help her situation.

She lets our a shaky breath and briefly unfolds her hands, slender fingers combing through her dark ringlets. “Please, Axl, just try to understand me…” She musters just enough courage to look up at her husband, glossy eyes searching his features for a gleam of sympathy. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I know and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I knew that you were growing tired of waiting and I was so tired of explaining myself and fighting with you over this. I just…” She trails off, using the heel of her hand to wipe away the tears that keep rolling down her cheeks. “Please, Axl, sit with me. Let’s talk about this. Don’t go…” 

#rcsechild #answered. #canon verse: 1991. #thank you so much for sending this :')) now drowning in angst :')) i put my playlist on shuffle and estranged came on as i was writing this

[erinevrly]

“Hmm,” she hums, the corners of her lips twitching as she struggles to refrain from grinning. A manicured finger tapping her chin, she pretends to ponder her answer for a moment. “I don’t think so. Is it not a popular saying in Indiana?” She inquires innocently, not even realizing that she just mentioned marriage and children in one breath and must have confused him. “Yeah, that’s — Okay, that’s true.” Somehow, he finds a way to calm her down. Her features soften when she comes to the conclusion that he is, in fact, right. There’s many ways to prevent an unwanted pregnancy, even if she’s not on birth control yet. Thinking about it now, she figures she should probably book an appointment and get that sorted out ahead of time. “Sorry,” she murmurs, swallowing her pride and admitting she’s a little paranoid. “You’re right. It won’t happen if we’re careful. I’m being silly and overthinking this.” She’s not easily convinced but he’s presented her with arguments that sound both reasonable and indisputable. “Yeah, it’s been a long day, hm?” She muses with a small smile, glancing up at him almost apologetically as she assumes she’s contributed to his exhaustion today in more ways than one. When he turns the flashlight on, she looks down and tries to locate her heels under his bed, though she dreads putting them back on. They’re brand new and have rubbed her left heel raw. “Aww, look at my foot,” she sighs, pouting dramatically and batting her lashes in the most innocent way as an idea pops into her head. She twists her leg and presents her injured heel to him. “Wish I had someone who would offer me a piggyback ride to the bathroom.” It’s worth giving a try, she thinks, looking up at him with pleading eyes. The same eyes her own mother could rarely say no to. “I’d pay that gallant gentleman in kisses and help him wash his hair.” 

“Oh really? I wonder if that saying was just made up today? By a Californian girl?” Axl laughs, brows lifted up at her and a smirk curling his lips. Marriage…babies…what was with all this talk about things they weren’t even close to being ready for, though. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t be against condoms though. And birth control if you already take that is also a thing. Condoms and birth control together…there’s no way it’s gonna happen.” He can’t see it happening after that many forms of protection working together to prevent a pregnancy. “And there’s the morning after pill suggestion too or whatever. There’s ways.” To keep from prematurely having a kid, but to enjoy sex for other reasons other than to reproduce. “Nah, I don’t think so.” he brushes it off, even if it could be a possibility, he would rather not think there’s any kid of his out in the world. “Yeah, I guess I better. I’m getting tired and I don’t wanna fall asleep with my hair like this or makeup still stuck to my face.” Singer agrees, raising up and finding his flashlight before hers, flicking it back on while thunder still vibrates the walls and he stands up off the bed to wait for her.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987.

[erinevrly]

“My sweet baby,” the curly-haired brunette coos, a hint of sadness ringing in her voice as her fingertips tuck some of her boyfriend’s strawberry-tinged strands behind his ear. If she could take his pain away, she would, no matter the cost and regardless if he allowed it or not. She loves him so much that it sometimes scares her, the things she’d be willing to do for him. “You know, I think that’s a sign then, that I’m the one for you. There’s this old saying in California so you’ve probably never heard it before,” she almost lets out a giggle, making all of this up for her own amusement and because she doesn’t want them to continue to sulk, “that you should marry the first girl who always chooses you,” she teases with a playful smile, pressing her lips together as she struggles to refrain from laughing. 

“I don’t think it’s crazy talk if you’re serious about me and want to… make love. It could happen so it’s important we talk about it,” she explains with a shrug, her sweet smile faltering gradually with each word. It amazes her how confident he is that it simply won’t happen, makes her wish she could just adapt the same mindset. “Maybe there’s a little Axl somewhere out there in the world right now and you just don’t know about them yet.” She doesn’t want to think about it too much, says it mostly just to agitate the other, but since his preferred method of contraception is ignorance, it’s possible. “I think abortion only really works out for women who are,” she pauses, looking for the right word, “strong, mentally and emotionally.” And she’s anything but, really. “I’d probably drive myself insane, wondering what could have been.” There’s not a hint of judgement in her voice. She admires women who can make this kind of decision, just knows she’s not one of them. “They wouldn’t be goin’ through — Yeah, okay, right. We don’t have to worry about it,” she sighs, figuring it’s getting late and they’ve already argued more times than she can count and so it’s only right she lets this one go. At least, he’s being honest, she tells herself, thinking that’s a much better attitude than making empty promises just to get her to sleep with him. “We should go and try to wash all the hairspray out of your hair,” she suggests, changing the subject. It should be their priority if they want to get any sleep at all, it will probably take some time, especially with the power out. “And makeup, too. My mom always told me that’s why so many girls have acne, ‘cause they wear a ton of makeup and don’t wash their faces properly.” She lifts her head off his chest and sits up, dainty hand patting the mattress, searching for the flashlight. 

“No, I wouldn’t allow that. I wouldn’t wish that kind of hell on my own worst enemy.” The singer shakes his head, he really wouldn’t. Sitting still as her skin brushes against his cheek, enjoying the sensation and smiling softly at her words even if he fears maybe she will change her mind one day. “You’ll be the first.” he chuckles, but then realizes the rest is his fault…since he kind of drove his first girlfriend away with his actions even if at the time he wanted to blame her first. Then again, Gina really wasn’t always the sweetest. “How? How don’t I love you, when I say my solution to what happens if I got you pregnant right now. Bein’ a father is just crazy talk right now.” But then he’s looking up at the dark ceiling besides the glow from the candles and rolling his eyes, they don’t need to worry about that anyway. They’re not doing it any time soon. “Oh. Well— I didn’t think about that.” he admits, then has to think. “Then, I’d talk it over with you and tell you my reasons for not wanting to keep it. Like, not makin’ that kid go through hell. But if you decided no still, then…I dunno. I’d support you but I’d be up front about how I might not be able to be there very often from this lifestyle and barely just getting started. We don’t have anything to worry about though, we’ll just be careful.” By just not being connected at all, apparently. “Yeah that’s true, if they are like me then they’ll make sure everyone knows what they wanna be called.” he chuckles, like him and being fed up of being sung to with ‘Bill Bailey, won’t you come home’. “Well, thank you.” For liking his name he came up with, he grins dimply and proudly.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987.

[erinevrly]

“Oh, I believe you, baby. It must be driving you crazy,” she whispers, her knuckles brushing ever so gently over his cheekbone. Pale blue eyes marveling at his handsome features, smiling softly in reassurance even though her heart aches for him. “I can’t even imagine how you felt, learning about your parents’ relationship through newspaper clippings.” When his mother should have been the one to tell him. Why didn’t she do just that? Why didn’t she just sit him down and have a heart to heart once he was old enough to understand? Erin can’t help but wonder. However, this time, she refrains from asking out loud, realizing that her boyfriend doesn’t have these answers either. “I wish she could meet my dad. He’d tell her multiple divorces are actually super fun. No big deal. You know, he’s an expert.” It’s her turn to let out a dry, humorless chuckle, in hopes of cheering the other up. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry that you had to see those things. That’s just horrible. You know, if I could, I’d swap places with you in a heartbeat.” Just so that he could experience that real, unconditional motherly love and that peaceful feeling of being home and being safe. “I’ll always choose you,” she promises sweetly, brushing his hair away from his temple so she can kiss his smooth skin. She knows her words won’t magically take all his pain away, but maybe he’ll realize that he is the most important person to someone, even if that someone isn’t his mother. 

If she weren’t so upset, she’d surely blush at being called the prettiest, but she’s still dwelling on his comment and what exactly it means for her. “When you say things like that, it actually seems like you don’t love me at all.” She glances at his hand on her shoulder and reluctantly gives in, letting him pull her down once more. She lays her head on his chest but doesn’t look at him, her gaze fixated on one of the candles. The small flame dancing in the dark. She’s simply too tired to fight him for the millionth time tonight, but it’s not like her to just completely give up so she keeps on talking. “It’s not about if you’re ready to be a father,” she sighs, ignoring his remark about what happened this morning between them. “I don’t want to be a mom right now either. But you could have said something like, if it happens, I’ll support you no matter what you decide to do. What you said instead… Well, it has me thinking. What if I do get pregnant but want to choose a different route and keep it? Will you still be there for me?” She falls silent, pursing her lips as she awaits his response, her heart thudding as if it wanted to burst through her chest. She can feel the vein on her neck pulsing, her palms growing clammy. The last thing that she wants to talk about now are baby names, but she figures it could be a nice distraction from these nagging thoughts. “We’ll just teach her to correct everyone who calls her Will then. I can see that, you know? A tiny version of you, telling other kids they can kiss her butt or something. My name’s Willow, not Will.” She simply has to cheer up a bit at that. Glancing discreetly at her boyfriend, she hopes they can one day have it all and be happy. “Shiloh. Shiloh Rose. That’s a beautiful name, Axl. I really like it. Shiloh. Shiloh and Willow.” 

“I don’t know actually…I’ve been askin’ myself that for years. Believe me.” Axl chuckles, not because it’s funny. It’s not fucking funny to him at all, just dry laughter spilling at the pathetic way he does have an idea and it’s because his mother is desperate to not be alone. “No. Cause she was in church where she met my real dad at, I learned through newspaper clippings… they met at church, got married at church but they still divorced. I just think she was desperate and probably thought it’d be embarrassing to have a second divorce or something. I dunno— either way, she always chose herself is all I know.” Rather than him. He wished often she would’ve chose him over her men, but it never happened. He didn’t get lucky with a mother like that. Then he goes quiet and lets her paint the image of her parents fight she caught before relating well with that. “Yeah, that’s most likely how they fought and you just wasn’t aware. My house was too small for one thing, it was the size of this room we’re in. And they had no remorse about fighting loudly in the kitchen most days. I’ve walked in on to some very impressionable things a five year old should never see, because it fucks ‘em up for life.” Fucked him up for life seeing his mother getting beaten by a man. At one point, he was even being brainwashed to do the same to women and in guilt has been rough with the opposite sex before. “Oh, that sucks. You’d be the best. N’ the prettiest.” Up there on stage, he means. He’d have to fight every man in the crowd, though. So it’s probably for best anyway. “Huh?” Strawberry brows lift, suddenly, out of fucking nowhere taken aback by her jolting up and starting to throw crazy accusations. “What do you mean? Yeah, I DO love you, Erin.” His hand curls over her shoulder, trying to make her lie back down. “But you’re one to talk. You started out this day makin’ me feel like you don’t love me but I know, I know, don’t even begin to explain it to me.” Like a broken record, at why she pushes him away when they do more than peck lips. “I understand all that now.” No, he doesn’t. But he still doesn’t understand what’s made her GO OFF on him all because he isn’t ready to be a father. “I’m not ready to be a father, that’s why I’d choose that route. It has nothing to do with loving you.” He refrains from rolling his eyes, why was that so damn wrong? “That sounds about like her.” Backwards logic. But he wants to stop thinking about her completely. “I’m not making fun…if I am it’s in a fun way. And yes they probably would give her a dumb nickname with Will as a name, even if I do like the name Willow. I don’t know of any girl names, but I like Shiloh for a boy.” he decides, after thinking of names he’s read in books before and favorited.

#rcsechild #main verse: 1987.

[erinevrly]

🐝  *  ―  𝑬𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  why did you have to leave me?  ❜ ❛  how could you do this to me?  ❜ ❛  i trusted you!  ❜ ❛  i'm sorry, but i can't do this anymore.  ❜ ❛  do you even care how much you hurt me?  ❜ ❛  i'll never stop fighting for us, no matter what.  ❜ ❛  i don't know if i can forgive you.  ❜ ❛  i never thought i'd feel so alone, even when you're right here.  ❜ ❛  please don't go, i can't handle losing you too.  ❜ ❛  you were the one person i thought i could always count on. why did you have to let me down?  ❜ ❛  did you ever even care about us? about me?  ❜ ❛  i wish i could hate you for what you've done, but i can't.  ❜ ❛  why do you always have to play games with my feelings?  ❜ ❛  i never thought saying goodbye would hurt this much.  ❜ ❛  every time i close my eyes, all i see is the pain you've caused.  ❜ ❛  why do you insist on tearing us apart when we could be so happy together?  ❜ ❛  i'm tired of pretending everything's okay when it's clearly not.  ❜ ❛  i don't even know who you are anymore.  ❜ ❛  i need you to understand how much you mean to me.  ❜ ❛  i'm scared of losing you, but i'm even more scared of losing myself.  ❜ ❛  why won't you let me in? what are you so afraid of?  ❜ ❛  you were my world, and now everything is falling apart.  ❜ ❛  how am i supposed to trust anyone after what you've done?  ❜ ❛  i can't go through this heartache again.  ❜ ❛  why did you leave without saying goodbye?  ❜ ❛  how could you say something like that to me?  ❜ ❛  you've always had a way of making me feel worthless.  ❜ ❛  don't you dare walk away from me when i'm talking to you.  ❜ ❛  please, just tell me the truth, even if it hurts. i can handle it.  ❜ ❛  i don't know how to fix what's broken between us anymore.  ❜ ❛  you're not the person i fell in love with anymore.  ❜ ❛  just hold me and tell me everything will be okay, even if it's a lie.  ❜ ❛  i trusted you, and you betrayed me.  ❜ ❛  i never meant to hurt you, it was never my intention.  ❜ ❛  i've given you everything, and it's still not enough.  ❜ ❛  why do you always have to make everything about you?  ❜ ❛  why did you do it? why did you betray me like that?  ❜ ❛  i miss you ... more than words can say.  ❜ ❛  you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and i'm scared of losing you.  ❜ ❛  i'll always be here for you, no matter what. just please don't shut me out.  ❜

#memes. #feels so weird not writing er 🥺🥺🥺

[erinevrly]

everybody  needs  a  little  time  away,  i  heard  her  say,  from  each  other.  even  lovers  need  a  holiday,  far  away,  from  each  other…  

peter  cetera’s  voice  pours  from  the  speakers  and  fills  the  sweet-smelling  interior  of  the  red  jeep  wrangler  with  a  hint  of  nostalgia,  but  the  driver  doesn’t  seem  to  notice.  her  sightless  eyes  remain  fixated  on  the  winding  road  ahead,  looking  but  not  really  seeing.  a  fresh  wave  of  tears  blurring  her  vision,  and  still  her  foot  continues  to  steadily  apply  more  and  more  pressure  to  the  gas  pedal.  she  could  care  less  she’s  a  long  way  from  home,  on  decker  canyon  road;  the  road  famous  for  two  things  —  an  impressive  pile  of  rust-covered  chassis  of  cars  adorning  its  hills,  and  its  uncanny  ability  to  give  even  the  calmest  drivers  gray  hair  and  forehead  wrinkles.  she  should  pay  attention  to  her  surroundings  as  one  wrong  turn,  one  slip  of  a  wheel  and  it’ll  all  be  over,  but…  that  thought  no  longer  scares  her.  in  fact,  she  embraces  it.  she’s  been  driving  aimlessly  for  almost  two  hours  now,  trying  to  muster  enough  courage  and  looking  for  the  perfect  spot  to  put  an  end  to  all  this  pain.  she  doesn’t  remember  when  exactly  she  lost  all  will  to  live  but  it  must  have  been  a  gradual  process,  and  now  her  mind’s  made  up  —  she  needs  a  way  out…  

she  catches  a  glimpse  of  her  face  in  the  rearview  mirror  and  quickly  looks  away,  appalled  by  what’s  looking  back  at  her.  she  resembles  something  straight  out  of  a  nightmare.  her  lip  is  busted  and  swollen,  dry  blood  clinging  to  the  corner  of  her  mouth.  her  cheeks  are  puffy  and  red,  tears  mixed  with  mascara  racing  across  the  irritated  skin.  a  purple  bruise  is  beginning  to  bloom  beneath  her  left  eye.  she  makes  a  mental  note  to  herself  to  cancel  that  trip  to  new  york  tomorrow  morning,  no  fashion  week  or  photoshoot  for  her,  not  anytime  soon,  her  husband  sorted  that  out.  it  was  a  particularly  nasty  fight,  even  as  for  their  standards.  the  most  violent  one  yet,  she  thinks,  feeling  helpless.  it  all  started  when  the  singer  came  back  home  later  than  expected,  smelling  like  cheap  beer  and  another  woman’s  perfume,  and  she  decided  to  confront  him  right  there  and  then.  where’d  he  been?  with  whom?  she  threw  all  kinds  of  accusations  at  him  before  he  even  managed  to  take  off  his  jacket.  she  told  him  she  knew  he’d  been  tempering  with  her  birth  control  —  did  he  really  think  she  was  an  idiot  and  wouldn’t  see  a  difference?  then  she  told  him,  or  rather  half-screamed  half-cried,  that  she  was  tired  of  the  constant  lack  of  attention  from  him.  he  was  never  there  for  her,  not  unless  he  wanted  something  from  her,  all  while  expecting  her  to  be  available  at  any  given  time.  and  so  it  went  from  there,  neither  needing  more  than  a  spark  to  ignite  their  fury.  at  some  point,  she  ended  up  throwing  an  ashtray  at  him,  aimed  at  his  face  but  it  hit  him  in  the  shoulder.  glass  scattered  everywhere.  she  also  delivered  the  first  slap.  though,  when  he  finally  retaliated,  she  didn’t  really  stand  a  chance.

and  so  here  she  is,  all  alone,  with  nowhere  to  go  and  a  head  full  of  terrifying  ideas.  she  can’t  go  back  home  now,  doesn’t  want  to  go  back  home  now.  or  really  ever  again.  she’s  finally  had  enough.  she  can’t  keep  going  on  like  this.  she’s  decided  that  she  won’t  take  him  back  no  matter  what  he  does  or  says.  and  who  knows,  maybe  he  won’t  come  crawling  back  this  time  ‘round?  maybe  he’ll  keep  his  word  and  stay  away  from  her.  wouldn’t  that  be  something?  the  only  thing  that  she’ll  miss  is  his  dog,  but  other  than  that,  she  figures  she’ll  finally  feel  free,  find  happiness  again.  it  will  take  time,  but  she’ll  get  through  it.  unfortunately,  as  she’s  dwelling  over  the  fateful  events  of  tonight,  the  low-fuel  warning  light  illuminates  on  the  dashboard  and  captures  her  attention.  even  in  the  state  that  she’s  in,  she  figures  she  can’t  let  her  car  die  in  the  middle  of  nowhere  in  almost  complete  darkness.  she  might  have  a  death  wish,  but  she  wouldn’t  want  the  sentence  to  be  carried  out  by  some  hobos  with  switchblade  knives  and  rotting  teeth.  besides,  she’s  growing  more  and  more  tired,  and  who  is  she  kidding?  she  could  spend  the  next  ten  hours  in  this  car  and  still  she  wouldn’t  have  the  guts  to  drive  it  off  a  cliff.

she  has  to  find  a  place  to  stay,  but  her  options  are  limited  to  say  the  least.  she  thinks  about  going  to  the  only  place  where  she’ll  always  be  safe  and  loved  —  her  mother’s  house.  she  wants  nothing  more  than  for  her  mom  to  take  her  into  her  arms  and  hold  her,  tell  her  that  she  did  the  right  thing  by  finally  leaving  that  man.  however,  one  more  glance  at  her  reflection  has  her  coming  back  to  her  senses.  she  simply  can’t  let  her  own  mother  see  her  like  this.  it  would  break  venetia’s  heart.  she  could  go  to  meegan,  but  meegan’s  seen  too  much  already  and  it  wouldn’t  be  fair  to  put  her  through  this  all  over  again.  she  could  go  to  taryn’s,  but  she’s  too  embarrassed.  her  childhood  friend’s  never  been  particularly  supportive  of  her  relationship  with  the  singer,  and  erin  doubts  she  could  handle  a  single  didn’t  i  tell  you  so?  she  figures  she  could  go  to  mandy’s,  but  it’s  been  almost  two  months  since  the  last  time  they  spoke.  she  and  duff  finalized  their  divorce  at  the  beginning  of  april,  and  although  the  two  women  had  tried  to  stay  in  touch  at  first,  their  bond  deteriorated.  if  erin  showed  up  at  her  doorstep  now,  she’d  be  putting  both  of  them  in  an  uncomfortable  position.  she  could  always  go  to  a  motel,  but  even  though  she’s  toying  with  the  idea  of  ending  her  life,  she  doesn’t  want  to  go  down  quietly.  what  she  really  wants  is  attention.  and  to  make  the  redhead  pay  for  her  suffering.  and  who  else  knows  just  how  awful  her  husband  can  be?  who  would  take  her  side  in  a  heartbeat  in  any  situation?  who  wouldn’t  pity  her  or  look  away  from  her  bruised  face  in  disgust?  who  could  help  her  get  rid  of  this  pain?  there’s  only  one  person,  she  decides  and  heads  for  laurel  terrace  where  an  old  friend  of  hers  currently  resides. 

steven.  she’s  never  felt  any  sort  of  romantic  attraction  towards  the  drummer,  even  though  neither  can  deny  the  strange  tension  that  blooms  between  them  when  their  eyes  meet  or  hands  brush  against  one  another  by  accident.  they’re  good  friends,  that’s  all  there  is  to  it,  erin  insists  and  her  heart  agrees  —  she’s  only  ever  truly  loved  one  man  and  never  felt  attracted  to  any  of  his  brothers.  how  weird  would  that  be?  but  she’d  have  to  be  blind  and  stupid  to  think  steven  feels  the  same  way  about  her.  he  must  have  had  a  crush  on  her  at  some  point  (and  maybe  still  does),  or  maybe  he  only  found  her  interesting  because  of  the  strange  rivalry  between  him  and  axl  that’d  been  going  on  for  months  back  when  they  first  started  hanging  out.  either  way  and  whatever  the  reason,  he’s  always  in  her  corner.  he  greets  her  with  a  smile,  cracks  jokes  and  makes  her  laugh  even  when  she  doesn’t  feel  like  laughing…  and  unlike  the  other  guys,  who  would  much  rather  swallow  a  pile  of  shattered  glass  than  openly  take  a  side  in  the  war  of  the  roses,  he  never  hesitates  to  choose  her  and  call  axl  out  on  his  behavior.  she  thinks  their  bond  goes  back  to  that  time  when  the  singer  slept  with  adriana.  erin  had  no  one  to  confide  in  and  steven  was  the  one  that  she  came  to,  the  one  who  surely  understood  her  pain  to  a  certain  degree  and  could  sympathize  with  her,  let  her  cry  on  his  shoulder.  she’s  heard  rumors  that  he’s  no  longer  the  same  person  now,  that  his  addiction’s  spiraled  out  of  control,  but  she,  naively,  refuses  to  believe  that.  they  all  do  drugs  and  drink.  they’re  only  ganging  up  on  him  because  he  keeps  getting  under  axl’s  skin,  and  everyone  always  does  as  axl  pleases…  somehow,  at  this  particular  moment,  that  fact  only  makes  steven’s  house  a  more  attractive  destination  in  erin’s  eyes.  she  won’t  have  to  lie  to  him  about  what’s  happened  to  her  and  he’ll  surely  have  something  for  her  pain.  something  stronger  than  valium.  and  so  she  makes  up  her  mind.

it’s  an  hour  long  drive,  but  she  makes  it  in  almost  half  that  time.  driving  recklessly  just  because  at  this  point  she’s  got  nothing  to  lose,  wondering  if  she’ll  eventually  run  out  of  gas  or  crash  into  some  truck.  her  thoughts  keep  coming  back  to  the  fight,  replaying  all  the  horrible  things  that  she  said  to  axl,  all  the  horrible  things  he  said  to  her,  causing  more  tears  to  well  up  in  her  tired  eyes.  her  mind’s  clearly  trying  to  guilt  her,  make  it  seem  like  maybe  she’s  deserved  all  this.  she  reminds  herself  that  she  has  to  be  strong,  that  she  can’t  go  back  now.  every  time  her  heart  pangs  and  she  begins  to  feel  bad,  she  lifts  her  gaze  and  finds  her  reflection  in  the  rearview  mirror.  a  good  enough  reminder  as  to  why  she  can  never  go  back  home.  it’s  no  longer  her  home.  she  can’t  live  with  that  man,  but  she  also  can’t  live  without  him…  the  irony,  she  thinks,  shifting  the  car  into  park  and  shutting  off  the  engine  in  the  driveway  of  her  friend’s  house.  

it  takes  steven  a  long  moment  to  come  to  the  door  and  another  to  actually  unlock  it.  she  can  hear  him  fumbling  with  the  chain,  struggling  to  get  it  off  the  hook.  but  when  he  finally  succeeds  and  invites  her  in,  erin  finds  herself  frozen  in  place  and  nearly  gasps.  he  looks  worse  than  ever.  his  clothes  have  sweat-stains  on  them  and  smell  absolutely  foul,  a  combination  of  booze  and  smoke  and  piss.  his  hair  hasn’t  been  brushed  in  days,  and  when  he  opens  his  mouth  to  mumble  a  surprised  hello,  erin,  she  realizes  that  neither  have  his  teeth.  they’re  yellowish,  with  remnants  of  whatever  it  was  that  he’d  had  for  dinner  stuck  in  between.  one  look  into  his  eyes  and  she  knows  he’s  both  drunk  and  high,  knows  all  the  rumors  are  in  fact  true,  and  for  a  second  feels  sick  to  her  stomach,  contemplates  abandoning  her  plan  altogether  and  coming  up  with  some  silly  excuse  for  her  unexpected  visit.  but  where  would  she  go  then?  she  tells  herself  that  she’s  feeling  so  uneasy  solely  because  she  hasn’t  eaten  much  today,  hasn’t  slept  either.  her  stomach  feels  like  it’s  been  scraped  from  the  inside,  but  she  ignores  it  and  forces  herself  to  step  inside,  closes  the  door  behind  herself.  the  man  in  front  of  her  is  no  longer  the  person  that  she  used  to  know  and  love  in  the  platonic  way,  he’s  just  a  shell  now,  but  she  ignores  that,  too.  the  hollow  look  in  his  eyes,  the  odor.  he  needs  help  and  all  his  friends  have  turned  their  backs  on  him,  that’s  why  he’s  changed  so  much,  she  tells  herself,  feeling  sorry  for  him.

he  leads  her  to  a  darkened,  sunken  living  room,  where  heavy,  black  curtains  have  been  closed  for  the  night,  blocking  any  light  from  the  street.  the  place  is  a  mess,  much  like  its  owner,  but  erin  pushes  a  few  empty  cans  and  used  syringe  off  the  couch  and  sits  down  all  the  same,  pretending  she  doesn’t  see  how  what  used  to  be  a  nice,  cozy  home  is  now  a  mix  between  a  drug  den  and  garbage  dump.  he  offers  her  a  drink  and  she  takes  it,  out  of  politeness  but  also  because  she  really  needs  to  forget  about  what  happened  between  her  and  axl.  she  feels  like  she’s  wasted  her  life  —  who  is  she  without  him?  no  one.  besides,  she  tells  herself,  she  can’t  be  such  a  priss.  she’s  never  been  much  of  a  drinker  and  so  it  takes  all  of  her  willpower  not  to  just  spit  that  first  sip  of  her  beer  out.  she  holds  on,  forces  herself  to  swallow  and  then  opens  up  almost  immediately,  feeling  the  need  to  get  it  all  off  her  chest.  

she  sniffles  and  wipes  at  her  cheeks  while  retelling  the  story  of  how  she  got  to  where  she  is,  leaving  out  a  few  details  that  could  make  her  look  bad.  she  can’t  tell  if  steven’s  really  listening  to  her  or  just  nodding  his  head  and  dozing  off,  his  eyes  are  barely  open,  but  she  keeps  talking  to  him  all  the  same.  when  he  finally  regains  control  over  his  mind  and  body,  at  least  to  a  certain  degree,  he  tells  her  that  she  deserves  better,  that  he  knows  the  singer  just  as  well  as  she  does  and  he’s  simply  not  going  to  change  his  ways,  trades  a  secret  for  a  secret  even  and  fills  her  head  with  the  kind  of  stories  that  axl  kept  hidden  from  her  —  whether  they’re  true  or  not  is  a  whole  different  thing,  of  course,  but  she  absorbs  them  either  way.  they  leave  her  feeling  even  more  horrible,  even  more  unloved,  worthless,  and  that’s  when  the  drummer  offers  to  help  her  out.  she  doesn’t  even  have  to  ask,  he  comes  up  with  the  idea  to  give  her  something  for  the  pain,  claims  to  have  the  perfect  remedy,  one  he’s  been  waiting  to  share  it  with  her.

they  go  upstairs.  she  follows  him  to  his  bedroom  like  a  lost  puppy,  not  really  thinking  much  of  it  because  they’re  good  friends  and  he’s  just  trying  to  help  her  in  a  way  that  no  one  else  would  or  could.  everybody  else  is  too  scared  of  axl  to  even  consider  sharing  their  drugs  with  her,  or  maybe  too  sane  to  even  think  about  introducing  a  friend  to  heroin.  most  people  would  take  one  look  at  her  and  know  that  she’s  having  a  mental  breakdown  and  needs  a  therapist,  not  an  addiction.  but  steven’s  past  the  point  of  caring,  all  he  can  think  of  is  another  high  and  the  fact  that  he’s  waited  for  this  woman  to  come  to  him  for  years.  here  she  is,  finally  seeing  that  he’s  a  better  man  than  the  one  who  broke  her  heart,  that  he’d  never  lay  a  hand  on  her.  he  helps  her  out  because  she’s  trembling,  her  hands  shaking  as  she  tells  him  she’s  too  scared  of  needles  to  do  it  herself.  an  anxious  laugh  rolling  off  her  tongue,  pale  blue  eyes  scanning  the  place  for  an  escape  route.  she  contemplates  backing  out,  but  he  talks  her  out  of  it,  assures  her  this  is  exactly  what  she  needs.  this  will  make  all  her  problems  disappear.  and  so  she  extends  her  skinny  arm,  hoping  he  really  will  end  her  suffering.  

it  stings  only  for  a  second,  but  then  an  impossible  warmth  begins  to  spread  throughout  her  entire  body.  she  licks  her  swollen  lips,  tasting  her  own  blood  but  no  longer  wincing.  she  closes  her  eyes,  fireworks  exploding  behind  her  eyelids,  ringing  in  her  ears.  but  something’s  wrong  and  deep  down  she  can  sense  it.  something’s  wrong  with  her  body,  with  steven,  too,  with  this  whole  situation.  it  hits  her  like  a  freight  train  —  she  doesn’t  want  to  be  here,  she  wants  to  go  home  to  axl.  her  chest  feels  heavy,  so  heavy  that  she  can  barely  hold  herself  up,  let  alone  take  a  deep  breath.  her  back  collides  with  the  soft  mattress  below  and  it’s  like  a  carousel,  the  world  around  is�� spinning  so  fast.  for  a  split  second,  she’s  feeling  nauseous  and  even  tries  to  signal  that  to  her  friend,  but…  is  she  making  sounds  or  just  moving  her  lips?  she  knows  steven’s  saying  something  back  to  her,  but  it  seems  that  his  voice  is  coming  from  miles  away.  are  they  underwater?  would  explain  why  it’s  so  hard  to  breathe.  are  her  ribs  made  of  lead?  she  can  feel  steven’s  breath  on  her  cheek,  his  hand  touching  her  stomach,  but  her  skin’s  burning  up  at  that  point,  and  she  couldn’t  protest  or  panic  even  if  she  wanted  to.  the  darkness  and  that  impossible  warmth  begin  to  engulf  her  whole.  gosh,  there  really  must  be  something  heavy  sitting  on  her  chest  because  she  can’t  breathe,  her  lungs  refuse  to  expand.  she  parts  her  bruised  lips  but  they’ve  already  begun  to  turn  purple.  the  last  thing  she  remembers  is  the  sound  of  knocking  coming  from  downstairs  —  what  she  doesn’t  know  is  the  man  waiting  outside,  andy,  will  save  her  life  tonight.  she’s  losing  consciousness  but  she  swears  she  can  see  her  husband’s  face.  her  mind,  deprived  of  oxygen,  must  be  playing  tricks  on  her  but  she  sees  him  and  runs  to  him,  wraps  her  arms  around  his  neck  and…  the  heavy,  comforting  warmth  of  his  embrace  feels  far  too  good  to  not  fade  into  as  everything  around  her  turns  into  dark  nothingness.

#canon verse. #drabbles. #viewer discretion is advised :') that time er was having a real hard time and steven od'd her :') #the source material on this is conflicting and sketchy to say the least so i wanted to stay vague :') #i also honestly dont think the r word happened but the whole thing is again super sketchy to me

[erinevrly]

#aesthetic. #save.