Hell is empty. All the devils are here. | OPEN

[Ian E. Rodgers]

The murder brought a vigilant aura to the asylum. Everyone was on the look out and wary of any person that they came into contact with: nurses, doctors, guards, patients – anyone could've been the criminal. And it definitely didn't help that among the patients, more tan half of them had committed murderous crimes, turning them into their own type of executioner. Paranoia filtered the air. Was it her? Or did he do it? Something was odd about that guy's stance – maybe he did it! Anyone who was crazy before the murder was now beyond crazy. And even the self-claimed “sane” patients were on the verge of losing it. But not Ian. He answered questions with a smug grin, and made snarky comments under his breath, which only infuriated the officers investigating. As far as Ian was concerned, the questions were frivolous and a waste of time. He and all the other patients knew it was probably some high-profile patient. And no matter what his answers were, he would still be constantly surveyed every waking hour of the day until it was solved. Might as well have some fun with it right?

It was early afternoon and a designated “cognitive stimulation” period for patients. Some of the patients were assigned appointments with doctors to help “stimulate” them, while others found their way to the library. It was a busy day for the library – not only being filled with patients, but with guards upon guards upon guards. Every aisle of every book shelf had a guard assigned, watching, just in case. Any book that a patient decided to “stimulate” themselves with had to be approved by a guard first, then through the librarian. Ian found himself over in the music selection. It was so small – barely even a selection. Everything was monitored at Lucid Manor, and that definitely included a selection of music that patients could listen to. There were some broadway soundtracks, a couple gospel albums, but much of the music involved operas, piano concertos, symphonies from classical composers. Ian thoroughly did not mind one bit. He had a high respect for the 17th and18th century composers which made his selection to chose from very easy.

He settled for Mozart's Requiem Mass in D Minor and smiled at his choice. The Requiem was associated with death, which made it a peculiar choice. And as he brought it to the desk for approval, the librarian woman looked at him with a quizzical expression.

”This is a peculiar choice, Mr. Rodgers.”
”What can I say,” He replied. ”It's a piece of history.”

He smiled faintly to the woman, almost daring her to ask him another question. But she approved his selection and gave him the CD Player to listen with. Ian found a table near a window and pressed “play” on the CD Player. He leaned back in his chair just as the first chord of the requiem played. Doleful. Angry. Morbid. It suited the aura of the asylum, and Ian smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and wallowed in the music of Mozart.

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

Amelia didn’t like what was happening. She had been in ‘the dark’ when the murder happened, so she came into the real world and felt the strange edgy feeling around her, emanating from everyone. Without asking, she knew something had happened. And when she did ask, fear and paranoia crept into her mind. Had she done it? Or more, had Lucinda done it? Overall Amelia had always been quietly grateful for Lucinda, she’d taken the weight of hell off her shoulders, but still she couldn’t help but fear the other part of herself. Especially when she’d woken up covered head to toe in blood.

So now that she had barely any clue what was going on, they still expected the patients to carry on like normal. So, Amelia headed for the library, shuffling past the guards. The guards didn’t bother her really, they weren’t there to hurt her or anything…or at least she didn’t think they were. Unless she hurt them, or someone else, but then again, Amelia wasn’t the hurting kind. If it wasn’t for Lucinda, she’d probably be a Low Profile patient. Unfortunately, part of her was a cannibal, and that was frowned upon in society.

Moving past the guards, keeping her head down, she found herself in the classics section, and she began to quietly sift through the books, looking for the perfect book to keep her attention for an hour or two. Usually if the book was good enough, she could get lost in it, and right now she really needed to get lost in a good book so that she could get her mind away from the idea that maybe she did kill the girl they’d found. Of course the bad thing about having multiple personalities was that you couldn’t actually hear them talking to you, they just sent you into the black while they paraded around in your body. She had no control or any way of communicating with Lucinda to see if she’d done it.

Picking up a copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, she got it approved by the correct people before walking to a table, keeping her head down and not noticing someone else was there too. She sat in the chair, crossing her legs and sitting on it almost like a child, before resting the book in her lap and reading it with her head on her fists and her elbows on her knees. It wasn’t that she had an obsession with Shakespeare or anything like that, she just preferred to read something that was nicely written, and some of Shakespeare’s plays fit that brief perfectly.

[Ian E. Rodgers]

He was lost in the Latin words of the choralists and the heavy sound of the orchestra as movement after movement followed the other. Ian's mind had vanished to a whole 'nother world – fantasizing about what lay beyond the manor and the first thing he would do when he got out. And the Requiem was his soundtrack as image after image flashed before his eyes: girls and booze. In this place, he had to be a saint and restrict any urge that came to him. It was easier said than done. Any girl that he encountered, Ian preyed upon in hopes of satisfying his craving. Often times, his lust was never satisfied because a guard or a doctor intervened when Ian became “too friendly”. Well what did they expect from any normal guy here at the asylum? To remain celibate until day of release? Pfft. That wasn't probable.

His thoughts and attention were instantly snapped away with a shove of his chair. Ian's eyes flared open and whirled around the room to acknowledge the individual with a glower. They fell upon a young girl walking past him and the sight of her figure immediately quelled Ian's annoyance. He watched her as she curled up on one of the chairs with a Shakespeare play. Sexy. he thought to himself. A girl who can read. His eyes danced over her figure, observing every curve and bend in her frame. She wore the same smocks he did, which only intrigued Ian's curiosity more. What had this innocent doe possibly done to end her up as a high profile in a place like this? Her face seemed familiar, but from what Ian had seen in the halls, she was loud, daring, and defiant. The girl here in library seemed the opposite: quiet, compliant and obliging. Was she one of the “crazy” ones?

Ian moved the head phones from his ears, and leaned forward in his chair casually. He wanted to come off airy and effortless the first time he spoke to her. He wanted to come across smooth and enchanting and lure her in with a smile.

”Good choice in literature. How far have you gotten in it?”

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

Amelia loved the language of the play she was reading, she’d read it before, a few times actually. She was definitely the type of person to reread her favourite books, which was why she used to love her school library. She’d spent a lot of time hiding in the stacks before. Now she wished that it was like that again. To be hiding away from her father in the school library until the school kicked her out. Of course, it wouldn’t be like that anymore, in fact, she was lucky to even be allowed into the library now, and the selection wasn’t exactly a book lover’s paradise.

When someone spoke to her, Amelia’s head shot straight up, almost like a frightened rabbit. Turning slowly to the boy asking the question, she blinked almost confused as to why he was talking to her. Glancing back down at the book, she shrugged slightly. “I’ve read it before, just…not much selection.” She mumbled quietly, shifting slightly in her seat to get comfortable again. She’d seen the clothes he was wearing, so she knew he was high profile too. She tried to avoid them at all costs since she wasn’t exactly great with handling dangerous people. Most of the time she willed herself into the black and let Lucinda take over, though it seemed worrying now since Lucinda could probably make friends with the people who enjoyed hurting people.

Even before she was put in here, Amelia wasn’t a chatty person, she answered people’s questions, yes, she’d talk to them if she had to, but usually she liked to keep to herself. Yes the boy was cute, but Amelia didn’t entirely trust anyone she didn’t know, especially men, since what her dad did, Amelia didn’t think any of them could be any good. A shiver ran down her spine and she tried to shake it off before going back to her book.

It always confused her when people expected things from her, and all of the talk about sex or togetherness that she’d never experienced, things that most teens seemed to throw around like it was casual talk. She couldn’t find the romance in things like that. Probably because she’d never believed in romance. Her parents’ marriage ended in death, on both parts, and when her dad was done with her mother, he turned to his own daughter. What was romantic about anything like that? So Amelia had never even kissed a boy before, and she wasn’t about to fall for a guy’s charm, especially taking in where they were.

[Ian E. Rodgers]

”I hear ya' there...”

It was beyond true what she said about the selection. Books were few and honestly... not the greatest in choice. Music was... lacking. And there weren't even any magazines scattered around the place. Not even a nurse or guard had one. Seriously, what was the harm in one little magazine. The thoughts about the library taunted Ian now and then. Now if it was up to him on the selections within the library, well, there would be big changes. He shifted his weight and leaned back into his chair, his eyes never once leaving the girl. Her voice was soft and timid – almost shy. It was obvious she would rather read than chat with Ian. But he wasn't so quick to give up. He never had been.

”A Midsummer has never been one of my favorites. I've always personally loved Hamlet.”

Yes. Hamlet. The idea of chaos, insanity and murder all intertwined to create one harmonious story. It was a dark, deranged story and Ian had always loved reading page after page. So many nights Ian had laid awake, thinking about Hamlet's revenge which thusly led to his downfall. Silly Hamlet; the whole idea of revenge is remaining levelheaded and detached, versus raging on emotion. Ian sighed lightly to himself as he envisioned the final ending of the play. But his attention quickly shifted back to the girl sitting across from him. She was still enveloped in her book and appeared apathetic about his presence. But Ian sensed something else – a little bit of uneasiness when she addressed him? His lips turned in a half grin and he reclined in his chair, putting one of his headphones back in his ear.

”You like music?"

(Holy bananas - this sucks balls. x.x)

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

She smiled slightly, almost hesitantly when he replied to her. She didn’t like talking to people around here. The paranoia set, and she’d always be worried that she’d end up saying the wrong thing and set them off. Though she knew that she was here for a very good reason, Amelia never really thought that she on her part was insane, sure she had a mental problem that divided her into two different people, but her, Amelia, wasn’t totally insane.

He replied with his comment about Midsummer not being his favourite, and him liking Hamlet, and she shrugged awkwardly, curling up into herself as if to protect herself if he suddenly turned out crazy. “I never read it, my teacher told me that it was basically The Lion King but more brutal, and I never liked that film.” She said simply. She knew a few lines from Hamlet, the ones that everyone knew, plus a line that went ‘to die, to sleep, to sleep perchance to dream’ which she didn’t know where she knew it from. She just did.

He asked her another question, and at this point she knew that he wasn’t going to let her read and keep quiet like others probably would. Looking up at him, again she smiled lightly, it was only polite, and nodded slightly. “Yeah, but again, not so much here. Their music collection isn’t something I used to listen to, where I wasn’t here I mean.” She didn’t know what to say to the guy. She could see the headphones, so she knew he obviously liked music or he wouldn’t be listening to some right now would he? Tucking her hair behind her ear, she bit her lip slightly and tried to think of something to say. She didn’t want to sound ignorant, but she didn’t really want to talk to him.

“How long have you been in here?” She asked him slowly, almost calmly, but a slight edge to her voice. She couldn’t talk normally, because she didn’t want to so it’d always sound forced, but at least she was trying.

((Mine isn’t any better >.<))

[Ian E. Rodgers]

His lips turned up in a purposeless smirk as he watched her set her book on her lap. Success. He now had her attention and they were officially engaged in conversation. Or, at least engaged in small talk. Ian's eyes danced over her lips as he watched them move with each word she spoke. Her voice was beyond soft and her words were tentative. He sensed her wariness of him. But Ian couldn't blame the girl. After all, there was a murder looming in the air. Nobody could trust anyone.

Her response about Hamlet shocked Ian, and he dropped his jaw in awe. Hamlet was one thing to be unfamiliar with, but what kid didn't grow up loving the regular stream of Disney movies? Especially without loving The Lion King. Yes, it embodied Hamlet to a degree: crazy uncle murdering his brother to rule the throne. Yes, it was definitely less brutal: talking lions and over dramatized plots – but it was beyond a classic. And any person Ian had come into contact with, he was sure that The Lion King was a classic in their opinion as well. His eyes glued to hers in astonishment.

”How can you not love The Lion King? It's such a classic!” He slumped back in his chair with an exasperated groan. ”Maybe that's why you're in here – you're crazy not to love The Lion King!”

His eyes went to hers again and he smiled a dashing, ensnaring smile her way – not only to let her know he was kidding, but to lure her in further. Flirting was one of Ian's crafts. And though she was shy, Ian felt confident he could warm her up to him. He looked the part of an innocent, and even spoke the language of an innocent. Yet to him, it was all an act to lure in his prey.

Her comment about the music selection didn't surprise him. Operas, broadway soundtracks and gospels weren't everyones' favorites. But Ian made do with the classical selection the library offered. He had heard the pieces even before coming to the asylum. But being locked up with nothing to do only familiarized him with the music even more. Now, he practically knew on what beat every instrument in every selection was to enter. But it never dulled him; the music was his only escape from Hell.

”What kind of music do you listen to?”

Ian was honestly curious. Most of the patients made do with music selection and even learned to like what was offered. But perhaps her taste was far different than what was provided. In his mind, Ian played a quick guessing game of what she loved: alternative? Maybe Pop? Or Rap? A snigger escaped his throat as he envisioned the tiny subdued girl listening to the blaring bass of rap music.

“How long have you been in here?”

The question was bound to be asked sooner than later. Either by him to her, or her to him. She chose to ask first which didn't surprise Ian. Anyone he chattered with often asked “how long” or “what” he was in for at Lucid Manor. He laughed quietly under his breath and his shoulders rose once as he thought about how to answer. In truth he had only been at the manor only a month – but it felt like years. Having nothing to do but to be constantly surveilled for twelve hours of the day made the hours seem long; made the days seem longer; and made the weeks feel like eternity.

”I lost count after four weeks. How about you? What's a pretty little thing like yourself doing locked up in a place like this – and wearing those.”

He nodded towards her smocks. She didn't seem like the average patient who would be considered a high-profile. But then again, everyone surprised you every single day.

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

She didn’t notice the smirk, if she had, she’d have panicked and walked away from him as quickly as possible. Amelia was definitely the one for ‘flight’ in the fight or flight thought. She couldn’t stand conflict and usually just tried to run away from it. That had landed her here. Still, she couldn’t change a habit of a lifetime in a matter of days. If she could, well she’d have suppressed Lucinda by now.

She saw his jaw drop and she pressed her lips together, forcing down a giggle. She didn’t really want to encourage him. Amelia wasn’t the type of girl who really trusted guys, who could blame her? She’d often heard that a father should be the best person in someone’s life, the person who looked after their child and made sure she was okay. Instead he’d raped and abused her. The thought left Amelia feeling sick. So now she tried not to talk to guys at all. Easier than letting them think that they had some type of shot.

But when he said about not liking the Lion King possibly being why she was locked up here, she couldn’t help but let a giggle out. Pressing her lips together, she took a deep breath in and giggled a bit more before sighing. “I didn’t like when Mufasa died, it upset me. So I didn’t watch it, plus I couldn’t really watch TV at home so…” She shrugged as if that had answered all the questions. It probably didn’t, but that didn’t matter, she wasn’t going to elaborate much more.

When their eyes met for a second, she looked away blushing, frowning and forcing herself to look back down at her book. She wasn’t the type of person to flirt, in any way shape or form. So when someone seemed to take an interest, she shied away. Hopefully this time it wouldn’t be so bad that Luce would come out, but she could never be sure. Lucinda wasn’t exactly good for predictability, especially lately.

She frowned slightly when he asked what kind of music. “Soft nice music, pianos and acoustic guitars, the type that sounds weird now, but was in all those cheesy tv shows in those clubs where they had live music. I mean, don’t get me wrong I can make do with the music…it’s just not my favourite.” She laughed slightly shaking her head as she pushed her hair back. She felt like she was rambling. “What about you? What type of music are you into?”

When he spoke, she nodded. He seemed to have been in the same time as she had…or at least how long she’d been told. It was hard to keep track when she went into the black for hours or days. Then the dreaded question. Why was she doing here. She ignored the thing about pretty. A sigh she laughed weakly. “On my part? DID and slight paranoia. Or so they tell me.” This was the way to keep it quiet and not tell him the real truth, that she’d killed someone, ate someone, couldn’t remember doing it. If he asked she’d tell him, but if not, then why tell him the reality?

[/justify]

[Ian E. Rodgers]

Her eyes were dancing – frolicking to meet his, then instantly dropping down to her lap. Her signs of bashfulness would've been subtle to any other guy, but not Ian. He had seen it all, and he instantly noted the shade of pink which started to illuminate her cheeks. One could barely tell she was blushing. But Ian could. And at that point, he knew he had her. All he had to do now was to continue the small talk, be witty, sweet, yet alluring to draw her in further. And once she was comfortable with wanting to talk to him more, he would get up and and they would part ways, leaving her wanting more of him. It was a scheme that had taken other men years to master; Ian had learned it at the ripe age of thirteen and was beyond a professional when it came to setting the “plan” into action. At this point, he had to continue to remain calm and flirtatious with her – a little tease here and there, a dashing smile now and then. When she talked about Mufasa's death, Ian exaggerated another groan and waved his hands just the slightest to emphasize his point.

”Yea, but Mufasa's death is only one fraction of the entire movie!”His eyes met hers again, still dumbfounded and shocked as before. ”You can't judge an ENTIRE move based off of one scene!”

Sure you could. Ian had done it countless times, but his mocking her judgment of The Lion King was entertaining the girl. Thusly, Ian continued.

”And secondly – happy endings. You are not allowed to dislike a movie with a happy ending!”

Again, sure you could. But another giggle from the girl would help ensure that Ian was indeed a “good” guy. That she wouldn't be wary of him next conversation they had, which could always possibly lead up to... more. Sinful thoughts played with Ian's mind and he grinned softly to himself. His eyes wandered from her eyes, down to her lips; round, full, pink lips that trapped another giggle from her throat. From her lips, he wandered down to her neck; pale and smooth, leading down to her collar bone, which then would lead to her breasts. Ian was very subtle about his eye movements. He had mastered how to mask his gaze and hide it with a shake of his head and chuckle. But his eyes were at her breasts, fantasizing about their shape and the hardness of her nipples. His eyes couldn't linger too long, for Ian had always remembered to be clever about his body language and timing. He brought his eyes to hers again, listening intently about her taste in music. Soft music suited her. Quiet music for a quiet girl.

She asked about his taste in music, and Ian flashed another debonair smile to her. He leaned forward, plucking the remaining ear phone out of his ear and offered it to her. The requiem was on the sixth movement, and the orchestra played powerfully with purpose as the choir switched back and forth between the angelic harmonies of the women and angry resonance of the men. He studied her as she listened to the music, inviting her into his world of classical music.

”Lacrimosa

[/u], the movement right after the one you're listening to, you probably won't like. It was used in The Lion King during the stampede scene.”[/b] Another soft grin creased his lips in jest as he looked to her. ”But I like that stuff – classical. Beethoven. Bach. Vivaldi. Mozart. Tchaikovsky. Y'know... The classics.”[/center]

He leaned back in his chair allowing her a couple more minutes of his world. And then she spoke about her disorders. And what she had done[/u]. Emphasis was on the past tense. His curiosity was aroused when she mentioned her paranoia. She didn't seem like the type to be a paranoid little freak. He contemplated telling her his story. About his womanizing past. About the one girl who wouldn't sleep with him. About how he raped her and burned her house down. He touched the healing scar on his left arm, thinking back to the day as if it were yesterday. All the while, a satisfied smile never once left his face. He thought about it. But it would definitely not impress her or sound very good. She didn't ask, so he didn't tell. But he did tell her his name.

”I'm Ian.”

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

She bit her lip lightly when he spoke about The Lion King. “Yes, but you see him live through this trauma that it’s caused him, you see this lion cub watch his father die, and see the sadness and the loss he feels when he believes it’s his fault.” She reasoned quietly, her hand in her hair as she tried to think. “Plus I’m not judging the movie on one scene, I saw the full movie, I just didn’t like it. It set a mood for me.” She said shrugging.

When he said it had a happy ending, she smiled slightly and shrugged, not having an answer. There wasn’t many films that Amelia liked, she didn’t like the conflict in it, it felt strange but she didn’t. Simple as that. Moving so she tucked her feet under herself, she rested her elbow on the chair leg and her head onto that. She didn’t exactly know what to say really. She just didn’t like the film, so she stared at the table.

She kept her eyes on the table for a while, not noticing his wandering eyes. If she’d noticed, thought that she probably would have, she’d have ran. Then probably been thrown into her room and scolded for running around. It made no sense, but still she had to go by the rules. There was always a strange feeling around here. It felt like she belonged in a place no one belonged. It was true that she didn’t really like it here, with the pills and the bad food, the sparse selection of books and music, and everything like that. But still, she felt like she had some place here, it didn’t make much sense to her why, but still she felt more or less at home.

When he offered her an earphone, she hesitated a moment, before taking it by the wire to make sure she didn’t have to touch him. Though she didn’t have a problem with touching, she wanted to avoid everything that could lead anyone on. She did not want anything like that. Listening to the music, she couldn’t deny it was beautiful, but then again classical music was always beautiful, just not Amelia’s first choice. “My favourite classical piece is ‘River Flows in You’ by Yiruma.” She said smiling as she thought about it, it was a song she’d played on repeat many nights when trying to forget that she couldn’t remember what had happened the night before. It had calmed her some, made her forget all of the bad. For a while at least. Smiling slightly, she tilted her head to him and looked at him a slight confused look on her face. “I’d have never thought you’d be into that type of classics, maybe classic rock, but certainly not classical music.”

She watched him very hesitantly as he listened to her problems. Then, as he kept quiet for a moment, she thought he’d think her a freak. She was, and they both knew she wasn’t revealing the full truth. That was obvious from what she hadn’t said. She was rather surprised when he told her his name. Why she was surprised she couldn’t say, but she was. Smiling slightly she nodded politely. “Amelia.” She said in return.

[/justify]

[Ian E. Rodgers]

Amelia. Such a delicious sounding name for a delicious looking girl. Ian licked his lips, subtly of course, pretending he was wiping something from his lower lip. But in actuality his mind was running wild with him, constituting images in his head of what the boy would do if this place was guard-free. He would be his own free man, like he once was before being locked up in here. And celebrate he would have one massive celebration with booze and coitus. Lots of coitus. Just the idea of fondling, fooling around and fornication made Ian's heart race and his blood pulse. He needed a release, and soon, else the boy would soon find himself in one mad predicament.

He swallowed hard, pushing his thoughts of sex aside. Step by step, Ian knew what he had to do in order to make Amelia one of “his girls”. He needed her to want him too – and his plan began to unravel slowly. His thoughts had completely consumed his brain that Ian honestly didn't hear a single word about her response to their Lion King conversation. But it had set a mood for her. Whatever that meant. A soft laugh escaped Ian's throat. He hadn't meant to laugh, but it came out anyway. And he played off with it.

”A mood, eh? Even with

[/i] all the songs, it still set 'a mood'?”[/b][/center]

His lips turned up into another mocking grin, tantalizing her. And then she handed him the ear phone back. He snugly fit it back into one ear and lounged back into the chair again. Her comments about his possible taste in music amused him. So she was playing a guessing game in her head too? He had her intrigued enough to be guessing about what type of guy he was. Well, automatically his living in this hell hole didn't speak highly of him – nor anyone. She was on the same boat he was, so hopefully she would pass judgment lightly. Would he tell her what she did? Maybe. Probably not. Definitely not go into details. But he would indulge her curiosity if asked, but only enough to keep her asking and wanting to know more about him.

”I don't mind other genres of music, but classical has always been my favorite.” Ian propped one of his legs up on the other and reclined back. ”Sometimes I think music can get too muddled with words. Then people try to interpret “meaning” into those words and end up ruining the song. I like that classical music has no words and can be interpreted however one wants. Even classical pieces with words, everything is spoken in a completely different language, and when we read the translation, there are no hidden messages: everything is very clear about what this music is about.”

And that was honestly the truth as to why Ian liked his music. Words and meanings were frivolous to him. He liked things blunt, to the point and not masked behind concept after concept. The only thing Ian liked to mask, was himself. He didn't want any person to see how openly sadistic he was capable of being, thus, he hid himself behind his mask of charm and flirt, seducing them into his sinful world.

[Lucinda Amelia Mason]

Amelia wasn’t sure how to take the boy. He seemed interesting, nice, but then again she had to wonder why he was in here for. Amelia had paranoia, so half the time she saw anyone in this place, her mind screamed danger. Plus when she couldn’t entirely trust herself, she didn’t know how she could trust others. Stretching her toes slightly, she squirmed and looked up at him. He seemed nice enough. But was that a front? Amelia never could tell. She wasn’t the type of person who could ever tell that. So she still felt awkward around him, even though she was smiling lightly and talking with him. Though she may not fully trust him, something about him made him easy to talk to.

He came back to the Lion King and Amelia blushed. Trying to make herself smaller, she lowered her head blushing, biting her lip a bit and shrugging very slightly. “Just did.” She mumbled rather embarrassedly. Tucking a lock of her long blonde hair back she started flicking through the pages of her book, wondering if she wanted to read it straight off or just skip to her favourite bits.

She nodded while she listened to what he said about music, though she didn’t agree with him. She didn’t think that music had a hidden meaning, unless it was those ones that you could play backwards and hear a real hidden message, but Amelia didn’t really see the point in listening to songs played backwards, it seemed redundant and also sort of freaked Amelia out so she kept well away from it. “Some songs just mean the obvious though. I mean, you don’t have to buy into the other meanings, you can just take it on face value…I do.” Okay that didn’t sound good because it made it seem as if Amelia took everything on face value, which she didn’t. She just didn’t do thinks to freak herself out too much. If she started second guessing everything she wouldn’t be able to get up out of bed on a morning.

Amelia began to play with a thread on the bottom of her trousers, twirling between her fingers while she looked around at people. She wished that she didn’t have to be here in general. She knew it was the best place for her, she wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t meant to be here, and part of her hoped she could get better but part of her knew it wouldn’t happen. Shaking her head she tried not to think about it and sighed, wondering what to say now to Ian, Amelia wasn’t a topic starter, she was more of a nod in and give small answers that made her participate in conversations just enough so she didn’t seem ignorant.

[Ian E. Rodgers]

The obvious. Yea, some songs were obvious. But many of the songs Ian had listened to, some ban of morons had listened to as well, and constantly chatter about some hidden meaning behind the lyrics. Classical music was easy for him. Easy to listen to; easy to understand. Perhaps it was the instruments used, how simply and easy they were to create something so magical and beautiful. That was probably the real reason why Ian loved his classical music so much; because it was simple. Simplicity was beautiful. Like her. His eyes never left Amelia's face. Her pale, delicate face. Her lips were full, lush and vibrantly pink. He had wondered in his head if they had ever been kissed? And if so, what it had been like to kiss those lips? Or to run a hand through her long, glorious blonde hair. Ian ached so badly inside; a raw ache to touch, to feel, stroke any part of a woman's body again. He needed that ache quelled; that desire had to vanish. His addiction to want their want was going to drive him crazy in a place like this. He needed some indication from this girl that she wanted him; any sort of want and Ian would be satisfied.

He bit his lower lip and his eyes dropped down to his lap. There was silence between the two for a brief moment. To some, it would be classified as an “awkward” silence. But to Ian, it wasn't awkward one bit. Nothing felt awkward to him at all. If anything, Ian relished in other's sense of uncomfort. When he looked up to her, she was twiddling with a thread on her pant leg. A sign of her uncomfort? Or was she simply bored talking with him? Yea... he supposed the conversation had died. Music. Movies. Now what?

His CD had stopped, Ian realized, meaning they had been chatting for more than forty five minutes. Odd, because it had only felt like a couple minutes had passed. He sighed a heavy breath and shifted, stealing another gaze into her eyes before he moved. His lips creased into another half grin; cute and casual to continue to warm her up to him.

”Well,” He stood up from his chair and heaved a mighty stretch. ”I suppose a better be out of here. I've got some sort of therapy thing at 1pm and I best be getting ready.” He said the last part of his sentence with an eye roll and a heavy dose of sarcasm, indicating his lack of thrill with the idea. ”But maybe I'll see you around...?” He was smiling still to her, a sweet, romantic smile directly at her, almost inviting her to smile back.

(Sorry it took so freakin' ass long! x.x;; I figure we can wrap up this thread and possibly start a new one later? :3)