Home Is Where The Hart Is ((Halo and the Girls))
Posted: 20 Dec 2016, 14:15
People like to say that when God closes a door, he opens a window. Now Bodie didn't believe in God but she sure as **** believed in windows. She also believed in trying your best, even when you know that you are the clumsiest chick to walk planet earth and have a one in five chance of landing on your ***. Naturally on her *** she did indeed land, catching her her hip painful when she went tumbling back to the ground from a poorly estimated jump, her saving grace being a big *** pile of multi-coloured leaves that somewhat cushioned the fall. Lemonade out of lemons and all that, the woman proceeded to waste five minutes making a leaf and snow angel from the debris, waving arms and legs frantically so that when she stood a Bodie angel remained. Expectation demanded she **** it up somehow and there would be no disappointing whatever force dictated her dire disaster attraction. A well-timed slip in the leaves had her scuffing stupidly at an angelic arm with her heavy black Doc Martens. She wasn't mad about it, life would be ******* miserable if she got mad every time she made a little mess. “HEY! Now it looks even more like me! **** me, I'm a masterpiece.” It was true, it just wasn’t Bodie without things getting just a little scraped up. There was no way of denying all of this was a delay tactic, Bo still vitally aware of the high chances she’d axe herself on the second attempt at climbing into her girlfriend’s window.
It was always the same, this homecoming routine. Ever since she finished school a whim would have her running off into the sunset, eager to discover the big bad world around her and getting distracted by some shiny thing or fascinating person and following them on their next adventure. She’d followed bands, lounged in studios with artists, sat on a couch staring lovingly into the eyes of a future politician, doted on a doctor in training and when she got bored, inevitably, she would return home. Home no longer really existed, not in a tangible way like a building, some bricks and mortar that had been given personality and preference. Nah, home was three chicks whose arms were always waiting. Tonight she’d picked at random, always just whoever’s room was closest, whoever’s window might be open. There was a rope at this one, carefully pressed to the side of the house but she still had a decent climb and jump to make it the balcony before she was home free.
Attempt number her two had her scrabbling to gain purchase on the rope, palms receiving friction burns that had each pull and grab leaving the skin feeling red raw and hot with pain. Worth it, she told herself, the ledge was in sight and she healed quicker now anyway; the healing was a large part of why she'd made her deal with the devil. One final gasp, one great heave and she was there. She was scrappy, for all her clumsiness, the added strength and durability that came with her blood thief lifestyle didn’t exactly hurt when it came to rope climbing. Carefully she pushed against the side of the house with her foot, giving the necessary extra boost to grip the balcony and drag her *** up. Bo tumbled over the side, landing with a quiet wince and “Oof”, air evacuating her chest on impact. She’d made it and no time was wasted in hauling herself to her feet and making a vague attempt to pluck at the last of the leaves that nestled amongst her dark hair before the final hurdle; the damn window. Actually, it was a big damn window, more like a door really so it should have been easy peasy. It was, surprisingly, Bo making it through without any conundrums.
The room was as familiar as her childhood bedroom, full of memories and the scents that made you feel safe, made you feel secure, made you feel… Trapped. Bo swallowed down the last emotion, it was too soon for that, too soon to taste the desire to be anywhere but “home”. She was excited to be here, it had been months since she’d last stumbled through a bedroom window and crawled into bed beside her babes, to wake them with butterfly kisses. The boots were too loud and were quickly removed, the first thing to go after her bag was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. Each step had her closer to safety, to sleep and she couldn’t wait to sink into it. With fumbling fingers she tugged at her jeans, hopping awkwardly to remove them as she approached the bedside, knowing that sleep in the damn things was basically an impossibility. The oversized t-shirt she wore was the perfect makeshift night shirt, black faded near to grey so that the once bright green alien smiley face looked more like a murky sea monster, cotton softened to the point of bordering on threadbare from wear. It had been simultaneously her best and worst choice of the night, the thin fabric no match for the winter weather and the coat she stripped last had sustained an impressive gash down the back. A mental note was made for clothes, borrow or buy clothes that weren't entirely useless for Canada. ******* Canada. Nothing now between her and blissful rest. Gentle tugs had the blankets carefully drawn back on the empty patch beside the sleeping beauty, allowing space for the restless one to crawl into the bed with her girl. Halo was this month’s lucky recipient of a Bo in her bed, the raven-haired flake pressing flush against her pal, curling around the curves she found. This was her home, here in the darkness beside someone she cared about, mouth pressing a chaste kiss to a shoulder blade, nuzzling her face in as she luxuriated in the comfort of a bed that she knew. Yeah, home was good sometimes.
It was always the same, this homecoming routine. Ever since she finished school a whim would have her running off into the sunset, eager to discover the big bad world around her and getting distracted by some shiny thing or fascinating person and following them on their next adventure. She’d followed bands, lounged in studios with artists, sat on a couch staring lovingly into the eyes of a future politician, doted on a doctor in training and when she got bored, inevitably, she would return home. Home no longer really existed, not in a tangible way like a building, some bricks and mortar that had been given personality and preference. Nah, home was three chicks whose arms were always waiting. Tonight she’d picked at random, always just whoever’s room was closest, whoever’s window might be open. There was a rope at this one, carefully pressed to the side of the house but she still had a decent climb and jump to make it the balcony before she was home free.
Attempt number her two had her scrabbling to gain purchase on the rope, palms receiving friction burns that had each pull and grab leaving the skin feeling red raw and hot with pain. Worth it, she told herself, the ledge was in sight and she healed quicker now anyway; the healing was a large part of why she'd made her deal with the devil. One final gasp, one great heave and she was there. She was scrappy, for all her clumsiness, the added strength and durability that came with her blood thief lifestyle didn’t exactly hurt when it came to rope climbing. Carefully she pushed against the side of the house with her foot, giving the necessary extra boost to grip the balcony and drag her *** up. Bo tumbled over the side, landing with a quiet wince and “Oof”, air evacuating her chest on impact. She’d made it and no time was wasted in hauling herself to her feet and making a vague attempt to pluck at the last of the leaves that nestled amongst her dark hair before the final hurdle; the damn window. Actually, it was a big damn window, more like a door really so it should have been easy peasy. It was, surprisingly, Bo making it through without any conundrums.
The room was as familiar as her childhood bedroom, full of memories and the scents that made you feel safe, made you feel secure, made you feel… Trapped. Bo swallowed down the last emotion, it was too soon for that, too soon to taste the desire to be anywhere but “home”. She was excited to be here, it had been months since she’d last stumbled through a bedroom window and crawled into bed beside her babes, to wake them with butterfly kisses. The boots were too loud and were quickly removed, the first thing to go after her bag was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. Each step had her closer to safety, to sleep and she couldn’t wait to sink into it. With fumbling fingers she tugged at her jeans, hopping awkwardly to remove them as she approached the bedside, knowing that sleep in the damn things was basically an impossibility. The oversized t-shirt she wore was the perfect makeshift night shirt, black faded near to grey so that the once bright green alien smiley face looked more like a murky sea monster, cotton softened to the point of bordering on threadbare from wear. It had been simultaneously her best and worst choice of the night, the thin fabric no match for the winter weather and the coat she stripped last had sustained an impressive gash down the back. A mental note was made for clothes, borrow or buy clothes that weren't entirely useless for Canada. ******* Canada. Nothing now between her and blissful rest. Gentle tugs had the blankets carefully drawn back on the empty patch beside the sleeping beauty, allowing space for the restless one to crawl into the bed with her girl. Halo was this month’s lucky recipient of a Bo in her bed, the raven-haired flake pressing flush against her pal, curling around the curves she found. This was her home, here in the darkness beside someone she cared about, mouth pressing a chaste kiss to a shoulder blade, nuzzling her face in as she luxuriated in the comfort of a bed that she knew. Yeah, home was good sometimes.