Client 0013897

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"Looks like you've got something on your face there, well, everywhere really. You should get that looked at." Riley said in a completely neutral tone. His hand tighten just slightly on Aspen's and he gently moved her instinctively behind him, expecting confrontation.
 
Brooks let off a vicious stream of extremely rude, offensive insults under his breath. Aspen fired up, peering at him from around Riley.

"Brooks, we all know you've got a C average, but please, I'm sure your vocabulary exceeds such vulgar profanities," she said monotonously.

"Speak English, bitch," muttered Bronwyn. Aspen ignored her.
 
Images of his father jumped into Riley's head. He felt ice crawling over his heart and a slight ringing in his head.

"I don't like that word." Riley said softly, a smile itching on his face and steel in his eyes, "I don't think you should call her that again."
 
Aspen could see Brownyn physically recoil, flinching back from Riley with fear on her face.

"It's fine," Aspen muttered to Riley, gripping his hand in one of hers and squeezing his forearm with her other. She stepped back, closing her locker door with her elbow and glaring at Bronwyn. "Riley, it's fine. Bronwyn, get a life -- and Brooks, Riley's correct, you might want to get your face checked out before your dad has to pay for a new one."

Aspen lead Riley from the hall, turning at the first corner. "Where's your locker?" she asked him. "Lewis has practice, so I've got the car. Did you want me to drive you home, or did you want to do something?"
 
Riley's head was still ringing but it was subsiding. He touched Aspen's forearm and apologized in case he was too harsh on them. He asked if she had heard about how Brooks had ended up like that.
 
Aspen shook her head. "You weren't harsh on them," she said, leading him to the area where the students whose names started with 'S' had their lockers. She knew where it was, because Bronwyn's last name was Stargatt. "And, no, I hadn't seen Brooks all day until just now. I just guessed his douchebag brother beat him up. Again."

Aspen looked down the line of lockers. "Which is yours? I can drive you home -- or are you seeing my mom?"
 
He pulled her to the side of the hall. "I did that Aspen.I mean it wasn't out of nowhere but I still did that to him" his face was twisted into an expression of confusion. "I had assumed that one of them had told you by now. That's one of the reasons I was so afraid what you're reaction to me in psych would be."

Riley searched her face for signs of the fear or disgust he expected.
 
Aspen took a tiny step back. "You did that? No -- why?"

Brooks' nose had to have been completely smashed, along with his hand.

Aspen pondered it a little, then realised she honestly didn't care what Brooks had done to Riley, to make him deserve such a beating. She stepped forward again, slowly wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest.

"Riley, Brooks ... even if he didn't do anything when you did it, just consider it payback for all the times he hit me, tried to force me to have sex with him and basically owned me when we were dating." She gritted her teeth as she remembered the incidents, how he threatened her and forced her to not tell anyone.
 
Riley's head twitched sideways. He had been trying to find some regret within him for hurting Brooks but those efforts melted away. He wanted to be back in that bathroom, breaking other sinks.

He gripped Aspen's arms, looking her in the eyes, "If ever comes close to do anything like that again, if you ever want him to feel what you felt, anything at all, just tell me. I will make him wish he had died as a child." Riley was surprised by how completely serious and devoid of empathy he was as he said that. He gently kissed her forehead and spoke softer, directed to Aspen, not Brooks. "You are better than any of that and you deserve so much more than I, much less he, could ever give. I am yours, and as such, I will do everything in my power to protect you from anything you are fearful of or threatened by. Including myself if need be."
 
Aspen should have been scared, or at least a little shocked, by the total sincerity and lack of other emotion in his voice. But she wasn't, because she knew he wasn't directing his feelings at her. And, she felt safe and protected by him, a feeling she could only associate with her parents and brother. Aspen nodded, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"I'll tell you, if it ever happens again, which it won't," she promised. She freed herself from his grasp and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
 
Riley put his hand on her cheek, noting the mere inches that separated their mouths... He wanted to kiss her. Slowly. Softly.

But he couldn't. Not yet. That needed to be her decision. He instead took her hand and asked her what she was doing after school. He had an hour or so to kill before his appointment and he didn't want to go home.
 
Aspen leaned her head on Riley's chest. She stood there for a moment, savouring the silence. In the Carstairs house, silence didn't exist.

"There's actually a place I'd like to show you," she said calmly. "If you want to go, I mean. It's pretty important to me ... I haven't taken anyone else there."
 
"Of course Aspen. If you trust me with its location," he squeezed hr hand, "lead the way."
 
The Carstairs family lived in a more opulent part of the town, but Mr Carstairs owned a large, slightly decaying house just outside of the town. It sat on the extreme border of the woods, with one room actually surrounded by the trees, so Aspen could barely stand to be there. But, staying in the attic or the front room, it became her special place.

Aspen drove to the house. "My dad owns this place, but I'm pretty sure he forgot about it. I swiped the keys from his desk ... I come out here when I can't bear people anymore, it's so peaceful. Literally no one else has been here in, like, five years. There's no power or anything, though. It's nice, totally isolated."

Aspen pulled into the driveway and stared up at the three-storey home. "I love it so much."
 
Riley looked up at the house, a loneliness creeping into his mind. Not the type that makes one sad, but the kind that is an escape from the everyday. Riley touched Aspen's shoulder and exhaled softly. He couldn't wait to see why she brought him here.
 
Aspen lead Riley into the house, unlocking the door with the antique key she wore as a necklace. The house was grand and beautiful, with a vintage feel -- all the furniture was the kind of antique treasure you could sell for hundreds of dollars. Aspen was OCD enough to clean the entire house every week; no dust, no mould on anything. She didn't want her personal heaven to decay.

"I've never even considered taking anyone here before," she said. "Not Brooks, not Bronwyn, not even Lewis. I come here to write sometimes. There's a piano upstairs, sometimes I play it and sing." She lead him upstairs, to said piano, and trailed her fingers across the keys.
 
"Why did you bring me? I mean I certainly appreciate it, this is a beautiful house."

He noted the absence of dust, or any type of decay at all. Aspen, or someone, clearly too great care in maintaining this house. He looked at the piano, remembering the way the keys felt under his fingertips, the notes that used to fill his living room... A dark cloud threatened him but he pushed it aside and tried to focus on Aspen. She looked beautiful sitting at the piano bench, the soft, almost mystical light of the house on her face.
 
"I brought you here because it's something special to me, and I wanted to share it with you."

She pressed down on the keys of the piano, delicate classical notes spilling from the instrument. One of the songs from Swan Lake.

"Have you ever played before?"
 
"I used to. I haven't in a long time, we got rid of our piano. I would love to hear you play though."

He stepped closer to her, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders, kissing the top of her head lightly.
 
Aspen smiled when he kissed the top of her head. She shifted from the Swan Lake song to Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men, one of her favourite songs. She sang along, not knowing whether she sounded good or not. Aspen as frequently told she was an amazing singer, but failed to hear it herself.

"Don't listen to a word I say/ these dreams all sound the same/ and though the truth may vary this/ ship will carry our/ bodies safe to shore."
 
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