Title: Glass Roses
Author: Shades of Hades
Date: December, 2007

A/N: *important, please read*  I realize that it's been quite awhile since I've posted anything. I also realize that, yes, this chapter has been done quite awhile, but I have not posted it. That is because after this chapter, I no longer plan on posting stories on this site. If you would like to continue to read this, you can find me at fictionpress or at livejournal. PM if you would like the addy. I update a lot sooner on those websites. I feel that this story is becoming too "adult" for this website, and also, they cut out all my precious swear words, so it's nice to have an uncut verison somewhere. I really love all your comments and I really hope that you will keep them coming. I only wish I had more time to write so that these chapters would be quicker. Thank you.

Chapter Eight: Betrayal

The awkward mood between us had not left as we got back into the cab of his run-down truck.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted in there,” Derek tells me with a small smile, that looks more pained then it should. It's not as if he really had anything to apologize for. It's not as if either of us did. Still, he looks upset as he stares down at his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Sometimes I just snap at people for no reason. I can't help it.”

As tears begin in his eyes, I begin to squirm. I've never be good with people crying. With Gabriel, it was alright to wrap my arms around him and bring him closer to me, to comfort him. But with Derek...

I don't know quite where I stand with Derek. We have something of a friendship, but it's awkward and new at best. And at the same time, there are signs that this is more than friendship to both of us. These emotions showing across his face now have somehow change my thinking of that.

“My father was always yelling at my mom and as much as I hated it, I've seemed to have inherited that short fuse,” he admits to me in a speech so slow I wonder if he's not thinking about the consequences of every syllable. “I've always had a quick temper, and, somehow, I always manage to hurt anyone I get close to, just like that bastard.”

He isn't trying to hide the fact that he is crying anymore; his fingers white knuckle tight as he grips the steering wheel so hard, my own hurt to look at them.

“How can you even look at me without feeling absolute detestation for me?”

I lean towards him, my fingers ghosting along his shoulder, my mind going over response after response. Nothing is deemed appropriate.

Fingers loosen their grip as mine trail up his neck, skin prickling in familiarity at the coldness of his tears clinging to his hot skin. A temperature contrast I am becoming frighteningly comfortable with these days.

“Don't touch me!” he tells me firmly, anger barely hidden within his voice, “I'm dirty, and it's best for you to keep your hands clean.”

Derek's lip quivers as he stares down at the backs of his hands, colored red from the recent strain and littered with tiny scars. They look so insignificant, but as I stare at them, imperfections scattered across otherwise flawless skin, I wonder if maybe they hold more importance to him then I can ever know.

My fingers are against his cheek now, wiping away the salty trails that clung like cellophane against his flesh, but no matter how many I wipe away, more come to fill the places of their fallen comrades.

Eyes clouding over with fear and confusion, he stares up at me, and I'm unable to stop my lips from touching his. The movement is slight, lips caught for only moments, but suddenly, the world has stopped as I wait for his reassurance of what I have done.

There is dead silence without so much as a breath between us, and I wonder for a few moments if I haven't read the situation all wrong. But I can't take back what I've done. And even so, I'm sure if I want to.

Then his breath comes again, a soft sigh against my lips, before his touch mine again, both hesitant and wanting.

As he deepens the kiss, my mind is working on overdrive, analyzing the situation that I have unconsciously put myself in.

I had lied to Gabriel.

I had told him I would never find anyone else, and here I was, kissing another boy.

There is a gnawing guilt growing within my stomach, tying it in knots as the timid touching of tongues sends a shiver coursing down my spine. This is so different than Gabriel's cold kisses that make goosebumps rise on my flesh. This is hot, scorching my very being as our slick appendages slide together in a sensual sensation that I am sure I will remember the rest of my life.

A slow heat is spreading through my body as his mouth demands dominance over mine, and I happily give in, breathless and aching with need, as he roughly licks at the inside of my mouth. His hands are gripping my face hard, tilting my head for better access as my tongue retreats further into my mouth as if coyly inviting him deeper inside. He's breathing harshly out his nose, but he complies, continuing a game I had never really meant to start in the first place.

Self-doubt however, soon rears it's head and I'm pushing him back. He's just panting and staring at me with a dark lust that has so quickly replaced his tears.

“What's wrong?” Derek asks me, voice thick with concern as he leans towards me to press soft kisses along my jawline.

“We shouldn't do this,” I tell him bluntly and his butterfly kisses stop as he stares at me.

“Is there someone else?” The question is soft, lonely, and it stabbed through the very core of my essence as his voice spoke so sharply of my betrayal, now of both him and Gabriel.

“Something like that...” I tell him, ashamed that I had led him on, but at the same time, feeling no regret that I have.

I am inexperienced. He obviously is not. His steamy kisses had spoke of lust and practice, while mine had clumsily led his along. One night with Gabriel hadn't yielded any real experience, and before that... Well, before that my hatred of the human race would never allow me a slip-up such as this one.

My stomach did a flip-flop as I met his eyes, anger and depression back as he stares at me accusingly.

“I really do like you, you know,” he tells me, a sharp edge to his voice. “Do you even care about that fact, or are you just playing with me for a cheap thrill?” His eyebrows knit together in annoyance and I wonder vague if something like this has happened to him before as he leans in dangerously close again.

My lip is quivering, begging softly for another taste of that mouth above me, but my mind won't allow it the pleasure as I spit forth the words, “I'm afraid.”

He smiles softly at me, lips and breath pressing softly against my skin once again.

“What are you afraid of?” He asks me, pressing his lips to mine as I sigh in sweet satisfaction.

What am I afraid of...? How can even begin to put my fears into words? It's not as if I can tell him about Gabriel, and about what Gabriel means to me. It's not like I can express to him that I'm afraid that he'll hurt me in ways that I can never fix, or even break my fragile trust of man-kind. How can I show him that I'm scared his kisses will leave me aching like a wanton w****, eager to spread my legs for him, just like the mother I have always despised?

“Please,” he begs softly against my lips, “just tell me...”

“I'm afraid of you,” I say quietly, my eyes boring holes into the back of my hand that is clenching the thick fabric of my jeans.

“Well then, I'll just have to work extra hard to change your mind,” he says as he brings his lips to mine once again.

I give into him with a soft sigh, opening my mouth for him.

He breaks the kiss off, slowly after a long while and stares at me through his lashes, lips moving numbly as if trying to bring forth words.

“I..” he starts once and stop, looking away from me as if to regroup his thoughts. Swallowing hard he opens his mouth again, “I should take you home.” His hands grip the steering wheel once more and his eyes focus ahead at the parking lot.

I glance around me, quickly coming back to myself, pushing down the feelings of disappointment at his words, and the guilt I was feeling about what we just did, remembering just where we were when this make out session had started.

The parking lot was relatively deserted, save the few people walking into the small restaurant, not seeing what we had been doing or just not caring. I wasn't sure, but I would bet money on the former with what I know of this town.

“That's probably a good idea,” I tell him slowly, as I pull the seatbelt back around myself, really just wishing, now that whatever was between us was over, that I could just go back home, and try to explain this to Gabriel. Or at the very least just be away from the boy next to me and this awkwardness I had created between us.

Derek pushes the old truck into gear and we were thrust into silence, my only words to him directions to my house, until he punctured the veil of quite that hung thickly in the truck.

“I really didn't expect that to happen,” he starts slowly, testing his words before they even leave his mouth. “I really just wanted to get to know you, and, you know... be friends.” He smiled softly at that. “I don't have a lot of friends other than Rachel, and even though I definitely thought you were attractive, I... I wanted us to be friends.” He repeats and glances at me quickly out of the corner of his eye as we pull down the road leading to my house.

“I would have liked to just stay friends,” I tell him honestly, letting to words hang between us for a moment before I can continue, watching closely as his hands tighten on the leather of the wheel in front of him, “but I'm kinda glad it happened.”

He smiles softly at that, eyes glued to the road in front of him. “To be honest, I kinda started talking to you the other day because I thought you were hot.”

He glances over at me with a grin and suddenly the awkward air between us dissipates and we both laugh softly at his words without really knowing why.

“You're not so bad yourself,” I tell him, smiling widely, and feeling a fluttering within my stomach as I look at his smiling face, not even noticing when we had stopped moving.

“It's not going to be weird between us tomorrow, is it?” He asks softly as he throws the rust bucket into park and gives me his full attention, lips in a slight pout as his eyes study me closely.

Throwing a half smile at him, I whisper, “I hope not,” before he leans in and kisses me again, softly this time, lips just moving gently against mine as opposed to the harsh movements of tongue and teeth of previous kisses we had shared.

Breaking apart I give him a wide grin, feeling honestly happy as I stare at him.

“We need to do this again sometime,” I say him, my face feeling tightening as I smile, a sensation that was still so new to me, I couldn't stop myself from indulging in it.

It seems they were right when they say smiles are contagious, because he still smiling widely at me as he says, “I'd like that.”

And then I was pushing the car door open, and sliding out of the seat, lips still curled in a half-smile as my feet hit the gravel driveway and my school bag hits my back.

I stand stupefied for a few moment,watching as he pulls away from my driveway and me before I headed to the front steps of my house, pulling out the key.

The door, however is unlocked, and I feel my smile quickly drop as I push the door open, feelings of dread washing over me as I take timid steps into the old house.

“Did you have a good day?” The voice asks softly before I can see the person it belongs to.

I shudder softly, dropping my backpack to the entry way floor and kicking off my shoes before I turn to face her.

“What are you doing home so early?” I ask nervously as I stare at my mother through violet bangs, my body instantly tightening at the sight of her.

“I saw you,” she tells me simply, dodging the question, and smiling at me, her cheeks dimpling at the wide smile, flashing pearly white teeth. It could have easily been mistaken for a happy smile had I not known any better.
"You and that boy, just now...” she let her words trail off and blood runs cold and panic slowly starts inside my chest, pumping through my veins as I stare at her, mouth twisted in a grin as she stands in the hallway ahead of me.

“It's not what it looked like,” I tell her, breath coming in small gasps, as I speak, my eyes hitting the floor heavily as my chest tightens so hard I can barely breathe.

“I'm sure it's not,” she answers quietly stepping towards me, soft foot falls echoing through the hall and I'm struck suddenly at just how quite this old house is, as my ears hone in on her own breath, soft and even, though I'm surprised I can hear it over the heart pounding in my ears.

Mother leans in close to me, fingers lifting my chin so gently I feel myself being lulled into a false sense of security as her breath is hot against my ear.

“I'm sure he's just your friend,” she whispers and I can only take a deep intake of breath in response, my throat very much feel like it was clamping down around it's self. “One that kisses you? Tell you he loves you? Pushes you flat on your back as he fills your body with his?” Her words hang there for a moment before I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly I see white, just wishing this was over. That she would just hit me like normal, instead of f***ing with me like this.

“Please...” I call out softly before I can stop myself, and when I open my eyes again she's staring at me, shock written softly on her features, as if coming back to herself.

She swallows hard as she backs up a few steps, composer instantly back to what it was previously. “Does he f*** you, Jackson?” Her smile is back, wide and wicked as she asks, an odd emotion flicking across her face as her words spill out.

“No,” I manage to croak through the thickness in my throat, my tongue feeling heavy and swollen within my mouth, and my eyes back on the floor.

“But I wish he would.”

I don't know what had possessed me to say it, but she gave a long laugh, one devoid of the joy Derek's laugher had held just minutes earlier, and then she just left the hallway, back to the living room, leaving me standing alone, dumbfounded.

“Is that true?” Gabriel's voice was soft behind me and I squeezed my eyes shut again, willing the tears back down.

“Yes,” Is all I could say as I slumped against the wall, wishing it could just swallow me up rather than having to looking into his eyes.

But I knew that wasn't going to happen, no matter how much I wished it true.

Ghostly fingers ran across my skin, the familiar pricking sensation causing me to gasp, but I couldn't look at him, hot tears flooding out my eyes, weather I wanted them to or not.

“Then why are you here with me?” He asks softly before his voice fades into the air and he disappears, leaving me feeling very much alone.