The Edge of Everything I Wanted
- Thread starter i love vaughny
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i love vaughny
Cadet
ya know, i forgot how FUN spoilers were.
isn't anyone at least happy that you're getting 4 instead of 3? bueller...bueller...?
P.S. i don't know the next time i'll post because i'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow and idk when i'll be back to normal...
isn't anyone at least happy that you're getting 4 instead of 3? bueller...bueller...?
P.S. i don't know the next time i'll post because i'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow and idk when i'll be back to normal...
Krista Bristow
Cadet
Yay! it's back, awesome so far!
can't wait for the next update!
can't wait for the next update!
xMountineer02300844x
Cadet
Thanks for sending the first PM! I missed teosn. But now, the sequel is HERE!!!! I liike it so far, but Rachel seems a bit shady...Thanks for updating and good luck with the wisdom teeth.
-erin
-erin
farliieansds225
Cadet
awww whats goin on??!!
awesome update
loved it
cant wait for more!
awesome update
loved it
cant wait for more!
i love vaughny
Cadet
thanks, it went pretty well overallThanks for sending the first PM! I missed teosn. But now, the sequel is HERE!!!! I liike it so far, but Rachel seems a bit shady...Thanks for updating and good luck with the wisdom teeth.
-erin
oh, i totally looked like a chipmunk. a dirty, slob-like chipmunk on the first day especially, because my whole face lips down was numb. could not feel a thing. like... milkshake was flowing down my face and i had no idea until it reached my neck-area. my mom said i was neater when i was a baby. lolSo how'd your wisdom teeth go!? Did you look like a chipmunk?
Double Update For Lack of Recent Updates (for one week).
Yes, it was necessary to capitalize ALL of that. lol
Chapter Four
There were questions in Vaughn’s head that needed to be answered; questions that didn’t seem to add up or feel like they should be necessary at all, but were existent nonetheless. Why did Sydney want to be picked up, at a half hour to four in the morning of all times? What was wrong with her room? Or was there some other issue? How come her tone over the phone seemed… off? He didn’t want to grill her for answers, he simply wanted some.
The drive took a little shorter than it averagely would, due to the fact that there scarcely were many drivers on the roads. Vaughn pulled up to the entrance of Sproul Hall and hit the redial button on his phone. He wasn’t even going to bother with saying anything; he was only going to follow the protocol of calling her when he arrived.
At 3:49, Sydney’s cell phone vibrated in her palm. Staring out of the glass doors she saw Vaughn’s rental car directly in front of her. She ended the call, even though, technically, there was no call to be disconnected because neither caller nor recipient spoke. Pushing open the door, she walked, with a normal pace, to the passenger door of the car, pulled the handle, and sat down.
Vaughn was not in a talking mood, not while he was driving. He only took a glimpse at Sydney when she took a seat. The rest of the drive had zero contact between them, whether visual or physical. Sydney didn’t seem to mind or find his behavior unusual because her head was leaning up against the window just seconds after she got in. Her eyes were closed.
Ten minutes later, they were at the hotel. Vaughn turned off the ignition, and took a moment to just look at his girlfriend. She was undoubtedly asleep, wearing her pajamas which, being an inch-wide strapped, ribbed tank top and shorts, paired with flip flops, could pass of as regular clothes anytime.
He sighed quietly and, placing a hand on her upper arm, rocked her gently to wake her. Disoriented for a minute initially, Sydney soon realized where she was and opened the door so that she could exit the vehicle. Wordlessly, they both made their way through the lobby and into Vaughn’s room.
Naturally Vaughn hadn’t straightened up before he left to pick her up. Therefore, the quilt on the bed was scrunched up and left in a haphazard ball in the center of the mattress, the clothes he’d been wearing earlier were left on a chair, and his bags were lined up by the western wall of the room. Almost zombie-like, Sydney seemed to only see the bed and went to it as the crow flies. She proceeded to fluff a pillow and then buried herself beneath the covers.
“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here?” Vaughn asked as he walked to the other side of the bed, shutting off a lamp or two along the way. She didn’t answer him. “Sydney,” he said a little louder. “I know you’re still awake,” he called her bluff.
“Look, Vaughn,” she said, agitated. “I’m tired, my head is throbbing, and I just want to sleep, okay?” she snapped. She blockaded her head from everything in the room with an additional pillow.
It wasn’t that Vaughn was mad. He really wasn’t, he just felt that if there were a reason big enough for him to be woken up at three a.m. and to be required to pick up his girlfriend at her college, only to bring her back to his hotel room, he should at least have a measly detail or two on it. Instead of following suit and going back to sleep, he, at first, just stood where he was for a little while, then went and sat down in a chair by the circular table in the room. All he did was think, until he realized the room felt too stuffy to think at this time. So, he grabbed his key and walked out.
His destination wasn’t exactly known when he left. He just needed to get out of that room. In the end, he ended up taking a walk near the pool. The crisp air was a refreshing contrast to the stale air in the room. About a half hour later, the dark night began to gradually lighten, thus inducing the decision to finally hit the sack.
He walked in slowly, and found that Sydney was knocked-out, dead asleep. For the first time in the history of their relationship, romantic or otherwise, they slept on complete opposite sides of the bed. Vaughn just didn’t feel like they were as emotionally in tune with one another as they were in actuality, and he chose to distribute his sentiments into literal space.
He slept for about three and a half hours, bringing his grand total of the night to about five and a half. Sleep wasn’t coming to him easily, so he got up, careful not to wake Sydney.
She wanted sleep: he was going to give it to her.
He took a quick shower to come around; after all, he was semi-sleep deprived.
The fatigue was leaving Sydney. She breathed deeply, and exhaled in a yawn before she fluttered open her eyelids. Her first clear image was that Vaughn wasn’t in the bed, nor did it look like he slept near her, judging by where the ruffles in the sheets were. Vaughn not being in the room was concerning her a little, until that worry was erased when she saw him walk out of the bathroom.
She sat up, and smiled at this sight, but Vaughn wasn’t looking at her, not even stealing a tiny glance. Her grin faded. Vaughn stuffed the clothes he was carrying into a plastic bag, what Sydney could only assume was his laundry bag. His hair was pretty much soaked. He was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, but he definitely looked just as yummy as ever.
“Morning,” she greeted casually, trying to get his attention.
“Morning,” he said curtly, automatically, not meeting her with his eyes.
Sydney narrowed her own eyes in perplexity. “What’s up with you?” she asked with a slight attitude.
“Me?” Vaughn asked, baffled. “Nothing’s ‘up with’ me,” he stated coolly. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“You don’t seem fine,” she accused.
“Well, Syd,” he said, making visual contact with her, “I’m not the one who called someone during the middle of the night, asked to be picked up, and then refused to even tell said someone what was wrong. So, clearly, I’m not the one with issues today,” he retorted. “Or yesterday,” he rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
Sydney realized she had been secretive, if nothing else last night. Secretive in a bad way, in a way that caused discomfort to someone she loved. “Vaughn…,” she opened apologetically, a guise of assumed innocence taking over.
“Is this how we’re going to be like from now on?” he butted in. “Because I for one don’t like it.” He stood perpendicular to her. Probably to an outsider it would feel intimidating, but Sydney knew him too well. He wasn’t trying to scare her: he was vulnerable and acting out of fear. “Are you forgetting the fact that we’re not even going to see each other for about three months? I mean, if you won’t even talk to me, we have no relationship, because we’re going to be limited to verbal or written communication, only,” he continued ranting. A tirade had commenced, and it didn’t look like it was ending soon.
There was really nothing Sydney could do besides listen. “You can’t just call me in the middle of the night for whatever purpose, because it’d be just a little hard to go and get you, the plane ride alone being about six hours,” he said sarcastically. Vaughn knew he was right, and Sydney knew it, too. It was the truth. She couldn’t behave like she had if she wanted to maintain their relationship, it simply wouldn’t work. Relying solely on the fluency both of them had with their involuntarily invented language would not keep them going. Communication was a very required factor. “Now’s a good time to start talking, Syd,” he finished.
Chapter Five
Vaughn’s gaze was fixated on Sydney. It was now time for those answers he wanted last night. When he questioned himself internally, he still could not say he was mad at her. He did, however, feel like she didn’t trust him, and that didn’t go over too well with him at all. Trust in one another was an over-the-top strong point between them. If even one of them had a single doubt in the other, the link chain holding them together would break. That’s not to say that it could not be welded back together under the proper conditions.
The situation that the two of them had gotten into was justly the do-or-die moment or, in the simplest terms, their future as a couple in their own hands. It was the precedent for how they’d be living their lives in the upcoming weeks. Last year, they didn’t go to the same school, but they did live near enough to one another that they still saw each other often enough. This year, the time between visits would be lengthened under any classification.
Consciously, Vaughn knew the blame game he had just dumped over Sydney’s head wasn’t the right thing to do. But he was getting defensive on his part. His mind was on fast forward and he could see that if he and Sydney were to act the way they had in the previous twenty-four hours, they would surely not even make it to Thanksgiving. He didn’t want that to occur at all. It was one of the last happenings he desired. The only reason breaking up was one of the last things, and not the last thing, he wanted was only because there were far worse, and far more unpleasant, incidents that could occur that he didn’t even want to think of.
This was their first real fight, because the last time that they thoroughly fought they had Weiss to fix them. They were on their own this time.
For a second or two, both could swear the silence ricocheted off the walls. Maybe, in a way, the silence pushed them together. Silence caused each to think about what sincerely mattered to them most. Naturally the answer to that was the other.
Sydney lightly bit her lower lip, letting her upper teeth show, not in a frown, but not necessarily in a smile, either. Now she was sitting Indian style in the middle of the bed. She was stalling as she thought of a way to begin enlightening him. Her right hand was grabbing her left wrist, her index finger running smooth strokes over the skin it could extend to. A deep breath, one that reached down to her diaphragm, was drawn and released in a sigh.
“You’re absolutely right,” she opened, shrugging. Vaughn was taken aback because the Sydney Bristow he knew was stubborn as hell; he wasn’t expecting her to yield so easily.
And yet she had.
He tried to make it seem as if he weren’t as surprised as he actually was. “There was,” she shook her head negatively, “no plausible reason for me not to talk to you last night, but I didn’t,” she emphasized, both her eyebrows rising simultaneously. “I didn’t because,” she paused, searching for the correct words to describe what she meant, “because,” she repeated, letting out a short breath, “because I didn’t want to. Because I was fed up and at my limit, and I just wanted a quiet place to go to sleep. I wanted to be with you at first because I know that we help each other when we need it.
“But then,” she sighed, “I didn’t even care that I was with you, and I feel so horrible about that, Vaughn,” she said in the most genuine way she could summon. “I didn’t care because my night, excluding the earlier parts with you involved, was awful.” She was forcing herself not to cry. Partly because she knew that once she started it would be difficult to stop; party because she didn’t want to be one of those girls that cried in front of her boyfriend because of relationship issues, she wanted to be strong; and partly because she felt she had done enough crying in front of him throughout the years. Blinks came like rapid fire to keep the tears back.
She was fifteen pages ahead of him and he was consequently left in the dark. He had no idea what she was talking about. “Syd, what happened?” he asked quietly, the end not even spoken aloud.
She sniffed a little to prevent a waterworks show. “Rachel happened,” she answered plainly.
He didn’t understand still. His brow furrowed. “What?” he asked, confused.
“I was asleep when you left, I remember that,” she began her recollection. “Then, about an hour and a half later or something like that, I started seeing jumping lights in the room, even though my eyes were closed. At the time I didn’t think much of it; I assumed it was just some car out front or something, so I ignored it. My head still hurt, but it wasn’t as bad anymore,” she recounted. “But then in addition to the lights, there were noises. A lot of noises.
“There were voices, and thumping, and I don’t know, a whole bunch of felgercarb. So,” she inhaled, “I opened my eyes to see what was going on. In the middle of my dorm room, I saw Rachel doing some kind of video workout,” she said with a hint of disgust. “My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw that she was doing a step aerobics routine, at quarter to three in the morning. I asked her what she was doing,” Sydney cocked her head to the side, “and she replied that she ‘couldn’t talk’ because she would ‘lose count’.”
During this telling Vaughn was listening very intently. “Who the hell works out at three o’clock?” he wondered out loud.
“My question exactly,” she agreed. “I tried ignoring her some more and attempted going back to sleep, but the lights and instructor on the tape were too much interference. She knew I had a migraine, I told her.” Vaughn was going to interrupt and say that he not only told her about the migraine, too, but also asked her to be quieter, but he didn’t. “A few times I asked her to please stop or at least turn the volume down, or something.”
“Did she?”
“I called you to get me, didn’t I?” she said dully. He nodded solemnly. “I couldn’t take it anymore. The TV flashing, the tape going, her moving all around, and her brightly colored ensemble – I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to get out of there, so –,” she was saying when Vaughn did interpose.
“You called me to come get you,” he finished.
“Yeah,” she said. “And then by that point I was too mad and cranky and tired to even tell you why I woke you up. I was selfish and self-centered, and I’m sorry,” she concluded.
Her apology was legitimate.
Again, neither spoke. The sound of their mixed breathing was reverberated off of the walls now. It was a comforting sound, a sound of home.
“I’m sorry, too,” Vaughn said at last, his hands sheepishly hiding in his pockets.
“For what?” The words literally spilled out of Sydney’s mouth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah I did,” he answered good-humoredly. “I basically accused you of not respecting our relationship,” he added, walking a little closer to the foot of the bed, creating a more friendly rather than cold space between them.
“No, you didn’t,” Sydney said quickly, shaking her head, a grin covering her face, her eyes squinted in disagreement.
“Were you even listening to me?” Vaughn asked in the same playful manner. “Because I definitely did.” The silence from before that was emotionally urging them together had now recycled itself into a positive energy that was physically pulling them together in a magnetic force. Sydney simply wobbled her head, telling him through motions that he had not done such a thing. She also had mysteriously moved toward the very edge of the foot of the bed, and was now kneeling. “Maybe it’s better that you weren’t listening to that little speech I gave. It wasn’t very nice.”
Their faces were about a foot apart.
“I listened,” she informed in a caring voice. Their eyes were wandering over the surface area of their faces.
“And you’re not mad at me?” he questioned, his eyes set only in two adjusting intervals: her eyes and her lips.
Her own eyes were set at the same levels. “No,” she whispered strongly. She took a chance and stretched out her arm so that she could softly run a hand through his damp hair.
Vaughn, in turn, hunched over, landing each hand palm-down on the bed on either side of Sydney. She smiled tenderly. The initial lip-to-lip contact was very delicate, very careful, a simple brush. That is, it was supposed to only be a brush, but it wasn’t because neither pulled away.
The vigilant pecks, with time, grew stronger, deeper, until lungs yearned for oxygen. They were denied for the sole reason that panting to obtain those large quantities of the air that was so craved would mean losing the connection that seemed more vital to survival than the oxygen. In good time, however, their burning lungs needed to be refilled. Air was being sucked down in gulps.
“If I…,” Sydney exhaled, “say I’m,” she breathed, “mad at you,” she said, her voice thready, but steady, “can we have a replay of that?” she grinned, overly satisfied. Her hand gently caressed his cheek, but soon made its way to trace his lips lightly as she stared on.
His facial expression was unchanged. He benignly moved her hand aside and placed his behind her head. Her arms instinctively locked behind his neck. She had all the trust in the world in him.
There was no basis for hurry. The back of his hand reached the mattress, and now Sydney’s back had inclined into a flat position. She untucked her legs and straightened them so that they bent over the edge of the bed. This way, Vaughn could set himself down more evenly.
His lips, his mouth, fused with hers at a pace that literally made her ache.
They say you have to work to get into heaven. As Sydney was trying to strip Vaughn, she knew the exact meaning of the statement. Heaven wasn’t a place or anything tangible at all, it was a feeling. It was a feeling of forgiveness, comfort, trust, and the deepest love.
It was the best feeling in the world.
Actually, Vaughn had every right to be angry at Sydney. To be woken up in the middle of the night and then not saying a word as to why it was so urgent for him to pick her up, is a very good reason to be mad.
And, yes, Sydney had every right to be angry at Rachel. Only an inconsiderate self-centered fool would ruin someone's needed sleep like Rachel did. If you ask me, Rachel needs to live on her own.
Chris
And, yes, Sydney had every right to be angry at Rachel. Only an inconsiderate self-centered fool would ruin someone's needed sleep like Rachel did. If you ask me, Rachel needs to live on her own.
Chris
i love vaughny
Cadet
well... I don't like rachel, either
vaughnshoney
Cadet
How very insensitive of Rachael.. she knew Syd wasn't well, but she did it anyway. Glad they didn't let a little argument break them up. Can't wait for more
i love vaughny
Cadet
hahaha. this was a good reply to read a few minutes after i got up. thanks
gtwallichs
Cadet
Working out at 3am!!!! Insane Freshman!
Excellent update!
Excellent update!
i love vaughny
Cadet
... or just insane Rachel
