Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Breathless	By : xCookingWinex Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Aiden Views: 1882 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Aiden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Thanks for reviewing this, you’re awesome. Hope you continue to enjoy :]
Chapter 3
Alyn could hear the water start to run pretty much as soon as Wil got into the bathroom. He must have been desperate for a wash. He stunk like Hell, she thought. I’d be desperate too.
She felt sympathy for him if not anything else – he didn’t look much younger than herself, and seemed like a decent guy. Well, from what you can tell about someone within half an hour of meeting them. She could already tell he either came from an under privileged background or he was homeless. Alyn Walker was just glad she hadn’t left anything of value in the bathroom.
She sat on the couch and looked at the ceiling. Her mother would kill her if she knew she’d done something so reckless. A stranger in your home? She didn’t care – her mom was far away and it was poor old Alyn, all on her own now. Just turned 20, and out on her ear. She found an apartment in Seattle, a good hundred miles from her hometown. Only $35 a week to keep – drawback is, it’s a shit hole. She saved all of her money to buy herself a laptop and she’d never been so proud. Being a reporter, she needed something to type up the latest weather and local “dog bites man” stories on as soon as they came in. Barely earning $150 a week, she wondered why she moved there in the first place.
Independence, Alyn.
Independence, but no life. No friends. Barely any money. No telephone – only her cell, which she barely used to save money on bills. Maybe she let him in because she wanted friends. So desperate for friends, I take them right off the street.
She shifted in the seat to make herself more comfortable. She sat on something at an awkward angle and reached down. It felt leathery, like a wallet. She picked it up. It must be Wil’s, she thought. She glanced at the bathroom door. He’ll be a while. She unclipped the purse – purse? This can’t be his – and her eye was drawn to an I.D. card in a clear slot.
Ellen Anderson. 45 year old accountant – Please return to Bloomfield Square Accountancy if found. $50 stashed in the back of the purse.
It wasn’t his.
She dropped it quickly; putting back down the groove in the sofa, hoping it looked natural enough.
So this is what he’s wanted for? Mugging a middle age woman of $50 and a bingo card?
“That is so much better,” he laughed, coming out of the bathroom. His hair dripped and his clothes were creased from where he’d haphazardly chucked them away.
“Oh – um. Good. Good,” Never good at hiding her nerves. “I – I think you dropped this.”
He looked at the purse. Took him a minute to remember he’d stolen it. He snatched it away quickly and tucked it into his back pocket.
“Forever losing that thing,” he laughed nervously. His stomach grumbled. “Man, I must have missed breakfast.”
Of course you did. She wondered whether or not he ever ate breakfast. Or lunch, or dinner.
She looked at her watch, although she knew the time, “I’m late for work now as it is. Do you want to grab some breakfast?”
I’d cook you something, but I haven’t enough food to just give it away to crooks.
He looked at her, eyebrow raised, “you’re an angel, right? Breakfast would be lovely.”
They took a table at the greasy spoon diner down the road. 8.30 and the town was bustling. Not many people at the diner, they’re all at work, or so Alyn figured.
They’d ordered two bacon sandwiches and a pot of tea. It came pretty quickly, and they started to talk. She was surprised at how much he talked, and how many questions he asked.
“I’m a reporter.”
“So why do you live in such a shitty apartment building?” He asked crudely, taking a bite of his sandwich like it was about to disappear.
“You think reporting on dog shows and weather pays well?”
“I guess not.” He drank some of his tea and shoved the sandwich back in his mouth again. Speaking with his mouth full he added, “You probably make more money than me anyway.”
“What do you do for a living?”
He nearly choked. He took his time chewing as he contemplated an answer. How did he tell a girl he just met all he did was get high and steal for a living?
“Either now you’ve decided to actually chew your food or you’re not entirely sure of what you do.” She questioned.
“I …” he swallowed. “I …I don’t do much.”
She laughed, “At least you’re honest.”
“I do bits here and there.”
“Where’s here and where’s there?”
“Walmart, you know, places like that.”
She took a sip of her drink, studying him. She put it back on the table and lent forward. She knew he was lying to her, but she decided not to mention it, but to instead go along with him.
“Do you want to do that forever, or do you have plans?”
“Well, I, uh …” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “No one’s really asked me that before.”
No one had ever asked him to decide what he wants to do in the future. He’d always take one day at a time.
A small smile came to her face, “so you thought you’d stay in Walmart in down town Seattle forever?”
“I try not to think too far ahead.”
“Scared of the future?”
He stared off into space over her shoulder. He’d never really thought of that. He’s not scared of anything, except what he could do to fuck himself up more next. It scared him to think that everything he does to himself is his fault.
“I’ve never really looked at it like that before. I just try to … get by.”
“Amen to that brother.”
He laughed, “Religious?”
“Oh Hell, not ever. Religion is a bunch of self-righteous bull shit.”
He laughed again, “Once upon a time, I’d have told you to shut your fucking mouth. But life has showed me that in fact, Alyn, you’re completely correct.”
“You’re a funny guy, Wil.”
“I have many hidden talents.”
“Like trapeze, I’d imagine?”
“I’m very flexible,” he winked, leaning back in the chair.
She rolled her eyes, and smiled. He had an air of innocence about him, although something told Alyn that he was far from it. But she couldn’t stay away. It was like a train crash – so sad with an air of loss, but spellbinding and enthralling.
He finished his sandwich quickly, so she hurried to finish too. The bill was $6.30 and it was sad for her to think he probably couldn’t even afford that.
“I’ll get this,” she said, reaching for the ten she’d slipped into her pocket before they came out. She wasn’t expecting him to pay.
“No, I will,” He stood up and took the brown leather purse out of his jeans. “I got paid today.”
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Breathless