JOYCE: 10.0 LOST TIME

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*Update 2/2*

Shadows glided along the walls of the silent apartment. The rooms lit by the distant glow of New York's city lights, a salient visage through the floor to ceiling glass windows that finished almost every room. I slipped stiletto heels from my feet and crept up the stairs, my reticent steps contrary to my restless mind.

I found him half naked on his bedroom floor, Jack Daniels taking rest on his bare chest like a newborn. There was a crease between his stubborn brows, his soft lips affixed into a scowl even as he breathed deeply in slumber.

I skittered around a bit, discarding my shoes by the door and ridding myself of all jewellery. A quick trip to the ensuite was made to remove my makeup and loosen my hair from it's restrictive updo before I settled beside him.

The ground was colder than I'd perceived it to be on my bare feet. I was compelled to inch closer to him like campers would a bonfire, until our arms were plastered together.

His nostrils twitched and his lids lifted upon contact. Lethargicly, his head turned to meet mine. His scowl fractured into a goofy smile, his eyes dark and cloudy with inebriation.

"You're back." A line of light streaked across the hardwood, painting a stripe of colour over his alabaster skin and coral lips.

"I am," I drew closer until our legs embraced as well, "You got drunk without me."

His grin broadened boyishly as he taunted me, "Jealous?"

I rolled my eyes and laughed, "Very."

His smile drooped as his eyes dimmed in the muted lights and he whispered, "Me too," softly into the night.

"What?"

But he did not answer. He'd turned away, his stare lost to the empty, before he felt for the bottle on his chest and cast it off to the side.

"C'mon," he said instead, "I don't want you on the floor."

He reached for me, pulling my body ontop of his own before he rose to his feet with me in his arms, and made his way over to the neglected bed. When we were both beneath the sheets, he lay his chin atop my head and ordered me to sleep, his voice faint and gruff with depth.

I obeyed.

•••

Saturday morning came in a burst of light. I awoke feeling refreshed despite a meager four hours of sleep.

A half an hour dip in Daniel's massive clawfoot tub put a luminous smile on my face. The piece of porcelain was a work of art, crafted for untimate relaxation. I was obsessed.

I considered putting my hair up but deliberated the fifty hairpins I'd have to wrestle into the kinky mass and refrained. I let it remain unconstrained and patted the ends dry as I sauntered out the bathroom in the nude.

Daniel's walk-in closet was the size of a studio apartment. Everything was categorically arranged to such perfection, I knew it had to have been professionally organized. I slipped on a plain white V-neck and squeezed into a pair of black Calvin Klein's. I made a note to prepare a to-go bag for these fortnightly escapades. Not that I believed Daniel minded sharing his wardrobe, but it would feel good having a few things of my own on hand.

I took the stairs at a bound, eager to bask in his attention. We'd already lost enough time. I was admant that we relish all we had left. I skipped the last step all together and pranced into the kitchen with giddy enthusiasm.

"You know, it'd make sense to start keeping some clothes h- you're dressed?" I stopped short, my excitement ebbing.

The ethereal dream-boat was already looking impeccable in dark ripped jeans, a long-sleeved black T and sneakers, his hair swept back.

"No, no, no, no!" I marched over with purpose, and started pulling up the hem of his shirt,"we're staying in."

He seemed genuinely befuddled for a time before his countenace broke into laughter. This one I had never heard before. It was deeper, full-bellied. And for some reason all I could think about was red wine and cigars, late nights and wild rides.

"Come on, get rid of them," I hooked my fingers into the loops of his pants and tugged.

He grinned, dirty and tantalizing, "I bet you'd love that."

I groaned, biting down on my bottom lip with a beam of my own, "You have no idea just how much."

As far as I was concerned we weren't leaving this apartment until I'd recovered every lost moment. Until we were both sated to exhaustion.

My hands settled on his hips as I swooped in for a kiss.

Our lips met for a nanosecond before I was being shoved backwards so hard my tailbone collided with the edge of the stone countertop. My lower back exploded in pain. I gasped, my eyes pinching shut as they watered.

Alarms were going off all around me, yet only I could hear them.

"What the hell was that!?"

"I'm sorry."

His eyes were different, vacant. And though he'd said the words meant to comfort and heal, they carried little value. He wasn't even looking at me.

He was staring straight past my injured form to- I glanced over my shoulder and almost screamed.

"What the fu-" both palms sprung to cover my lips, but not to smother the profanity tainting the tip of my tongue, to repress the scream tearing its way up my throat.

There were two of him.

Of them.

I'll admit, it took longer than it should have to deduce which Daniel was mine. He was the one just as bare-chested as the night before. The one with hands fisted and chest pumping. Complextion blemished by anger and eyes alight with retribution. Who's whole form thrummed in rage.

"I didn't mean to."

Luke? Isaiah? I didn't know which one this was, but whoever he may have been, he was entirely too calm, too placating in the face of a freight train. I feared for him.

"D-Danny."

He didn't even look at me, his stare stapled to his kin with enough wrath to fuel judgement.

"D-Daniel, baby, I-I didn't know. Please-"

He struck so fast he was a blur. I blinked and he'd moved. His fist smashed into his brother's face and blood came forth like water from a spring.

This time I could not stifle my shriek.

If looks could kill there'd be nothing of his brother left to bury.

"If you think she's gonna be Meredith 2.0 you have lost. Your. God. Damn. Mind."

•••


-daydreamin- commented this on the last chapter and I almost slipped into a coughing fit the way how hard I laughed.

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Did this meeting live up to expectations?

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