Categories > Celebrities > David Bowie

Quicksand

by Sirius_Moonlight 0 reviews

The love affair of Scarlett Wilson and David Jones has been kept under wraps for months; it needs to be kept secret at all costs. Word soon begins to spread and their lives spiral out of control.

Category: David Bowie - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2013-01-28 - Updated: 2013-01-28 - 1002 words

0Unrated


I looked up from my geography essay at the sound of footsteps behind my chair.
"I know you're there." I said. "Move any closer to me and I'll take your eye out with my pen."
I turned around sharply, pen firmly in hand, only to discover David with a raised eyebrow and a slightly opened mouth.
"You're a crazy bitch, Scarlett." He tutted, smiling slightly. "But I like that."
I smiled and stood up, saying nothing and putting my arms around him as I gazed into his eyes, the moonlight shining into them like they were jewels. They had darkened slightly since I had seen him earlier that day, a sign of something. They seemed to say "Forget the essay. Come away with me. I am all you need in order to sustain life"
Still not saying a word, I slowly ran my fingers through his soft blond waves cascading beyond his shoulders like a silk waterfall. He narrowed his eyes and bought his face closer to mine, simultaneously putting his own arms around me and tilting his head ever so slightly. Our lips almost met before he, without warning, opened his eyes and I noticed a few small tears in the corner of each one, his blue irises turning a nervous green colour.
"I can't do this anymore." He admitted, rubbing his forehead.
"You can't do what anymore?" I questioned, "You can tell me anything, I won't be mad." I said with a reassuring glance.
David took a deep breath and brought his face closer to mine. I wanted to caress his perfect pale skin so badly but I fought the temptation.
"Firstly, you know that there's a woman that I always try to avoid when I'm with you, right?" He asked.
I nodded. "I assumed that she's your ex...what else could she be?" I replied.
"She's..." he began, "No, if I said that it would sound a bit flat, ugh...how can I say this?" He said to himself quietly, "Think, David, think."
I arched an eyebrow at his soliloquizing. "I don't care how you tell me, just as long as you do tell me." I breathed in an almost inaudible volume.
He breathed heavily again. "I'm...I'm married. I have been for 2 years. That woman is my wife. She claims it's an open marriage but she seems to get mad if I date other people. And I needed to tell one of you that you're not my 'only one'." He told me, slowly but desperately. "It sounds horrible to my wife," he continued, "but I'd rather lose her as a lover than you." He finished.
"You really think I mind?" I asked him.
He shrugged, "I know what you're like- the smallest things bother you."
"Well, I don't mind, at all. What would your wife do if she found out?"
"I honestly don't know. She'd probably copy your haircut and maybe date some other man to make me jealous and 'come crawling back'."
I laughed. "Even if she does then one thing she can't stop us from doing is seeing each other at least twice a week."
"I thought we weren't going to discuss those matters...outside of class." He winked. "But I'll let you off just this once. Did you complete that coursework I assigned a couple of months ago?" He enquired.
"It's been finished for three weeks." I informed.
"It's been finished for three weeks, SIR!" He corrected, picking up a ruler from on the desk and pretending to hit me on the wrist with it.
This wasn't a roleplay, David was my English Literature professor. We didn't like to discuss it outside of the school campus, as we believed it would take over our relationship, but we occasionally did.
"But it's good to hear it's been done for that length of time. It better be the best damn thing I've ever read. I have high expectations of you, Miss Wilson." He insisted, smiling. You could hear the smile in his voice as he said the last sentence. "I'm a strict marker, you know." He smiled, not breaking eye contact with me as he sunk gracefully onto on a chair in the corner of the room with one of his legs propped behind him. I was amazed at how he could sit like that and feel no pain.
"So, tell me," he leant forward, "What are the girls in your, I mean...our class like in other lessons?" He asked out of pure interest.
I found another chair and placed it next to his. "Well," I began, tying not to look awkward as I sat down, "most of them have a custom to not pay attention...that's about it."
"Hm, just like in my lesson, then." He sounded almost disappointed that I didn't say anything interesting or surprising. "You're the only good female student I've got." He sighed, "I'm lucky to have you."
I didn't know how to reply so we both sat in silence, glancing at each other occasionally.
He glanced at the clock on the wall and stood up. "Maybe I should leave. I'm sure that essay's important." He chuckled, his eyes saying "I'm more important than any essay." and planted a kiss firmly on my lips. "I shall see you tomorrow, love."
I led him out through our carefully planned exit: my house has a balcony, which just so happens to come straight off my room, and it also just so happens to have a ladder camouflaged into the wood. Nobody knows it exists except the two of us, so we use that if he wants to see me outside of school hours or during holidays and weekends if my family are home. Just as he walked out through the door to the alleyway, he poked his head back around the door and called, quietly enough for nobody else to hear, the words "Don't forget your coursework, Jade Eyes." And with that, he closed the passage door and disappeared into the moonlit night.
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