![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
awritinglilypeaFandom: Original
Rating: Strong PG-13
Summary: All Ajani Sullivan is trying to do is survive. Yet when his angel can't manage to he is left with nothing but his faith and false hopes. He finds himself immersed in a home with an eclectic bunch of characters who all want him to be happy.
Dedication: I would like to dedicate this to Error-Author who edited it so thoroughly that she made this better than I had hoped it would be.
It was the last normal day of Ajani’s life, as normal as his life could be. It was only two days after that the doctor’s discovered that there was nothing they could do to save his angel; there was nothing they could do to put her back together. It was only a month after that, when under the weight of failed treatments and disease, his angel’s heart gave out taking her mother’s with her. Ajani couldn’t fault his mother for giving up, not when it was what he wanted to do as the resounding beep had flowed through the. He couldn’t fault his mother for not staying with him because he knew someone needed to take care of Casandia in the afterlife.
It all came to a head six months ago, when he had come in from school to find everything had gone horribly wrong. The house had been sold, his clothes thrown out and when he tried to get in…it wasn’t something he liked to think about anymore. It was something he dreamt about nightly but never willingly. He couldn’t even bring himself to write about it and words had always been his solace. Not now though, as he stared out the window of the taxi shuttling him off to his next home, a new family. He almost scoffed aloud at the idea, he was sixteen, he didn’t need a new family he could take care of himself. But despite his protests here he was on his way to the Wilkinson home, to a woman who had never married but took in children who she thought needed help. Not children though, teenagers, teenage boys.
The car halted and Ajani studied the house, trying to put into words how it made him feel. Nothing perhaps, or maybe a little bit amused would be better. It wasn’t outright amusing, the decorations of the house but something about it just screamed that the people who lived there were quite eccentric. The trellis was covered in fairy lights along with the ivy that climbed it, the flower beds were arranged in what appeared to be a rainbow and a beaten up convertible Volkswagen beetle sat in the drive. He stepped out of the car slowly, his stomach turning in nervousness as he took his bags from the cab driver and handed him the money his social worker had given him before climbing the three porch steps and ringing the doorbell.
When the door swung open Ajani couldn’t remember what he had been expecting, as all of his expectations had flown out the window. Chloe Wilkinson, he had been told, was a middle-aged woman but she definitely didn’t look it; in fact he wouldn’t place her age any higher then twenty-eight at the most. Her hair was an unnatural shade of red, pinned back from her face probably due to the curls that seemed to be trying to escape with a fervour he had never seen from hair, framing a brilliant silvery set of eyes.
“Ajani!” Chloe exclaimed, reaching out to take both of his hands, pulling the bags out of them and set them down then grasped his hands and squeezed, unobstructed. Her eyes sparkled in merriment as she looked him over, darkening only when she saw how thin he was and noticed the bags under his eyes. “How nice to finally meet you,” Her voice was tinged with an accent, English, but he couldn’t quite place the exact location quite yet. “C’mon in, lovely, lovely,” She seemed to murmur to herself as she picked his bags up and brought them into the house.
Ajani looked around, surprised even more at the kitchen. It seemed this was not going to be a normal, miserable experience after all. It reflected warmth that filled him like nothing had in a very long time. He would bet it had been designed by Chloe or at the very least some local artist at her request. The walls were a peach colour that blended like a sunset towards the ceiling, the counters a white marble that shone like it was inlaid with tiny diamonds, and the table…It was covered in homework, papers with various pen marks scribbled across them, most common among them the feminine encouraging script of Chloe. He could recognize her writing anywhere as she had written him prior to his coming to her home for a trial, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t mind coming to live with her. He minded, but it was nothing against her, just the fact that he had a family; they just didn’t want him anymore. It was something he was still trying to cope with, granted he hadn’t gotten along with Liam or Riley but for a short while they had been his family. He really should’ve known better then to assume such a thing.
“What do you think of it?” Chloe asked, wringing her hands somewhat as she watched him take a look around; it was clearly important to her that he approve of her home, of the place he would be living for as long as he liked she had said. “The kitchen is a bit messy but it does normally look quite clean I promise,” She informed him, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I’ll get one of the boys to help you with your bags and we can get you all settled.”
Gaping and unsure if he was supposed to answer the original question, Ajani cleared his throat. “I think the kitchen is nice. Do we cook our own meals here?” Or everyone else’s? He thought to himself but ignored it. It was doubtful she would treat him the way Liam had; as more of a Cinderella there only to do whatever his evil step father and brother insisted upon.
“We do have one night were you'd have to fend for yourself. Typically that is on Friday or Saturday depending on what’s going on around town and who’s working and all that,” Chloe answered. Her cheeks flushed with happiness and her eyes sparkled so much Ajani entertained the thought that all she did in the morning was flip on an on switch and was ready to go. “Will that be a problem for you?” She asked, seeming genuinely concerned at this.
Ajani shook his head, allowing the ghost of a smile to pass over his lips. “No Miss. Wilkinson not at all,” He responded, his voice soft and melodic as his inner thoughts seemed to calm themselves. “I’m used to fending for myself.”
Chloe looked almost sad at this, shocking Ajani somewhat. Surely she didn’t actually care about him or what he’d had to go through before arriving in her home; no one had before, not even the women at the shelter. He found himself becoming uneasy and nervous she wasn’t supposed to care and he wasn’t supposed to get attached to this kind of life. This was going to be a place for him to live, and sleep until he could manage to either get emancipated or come of age. He would not care; he couldn’t care because all he knew was that in his last home that had brought him nothing but pain.
Making her way to the stairs set behind a half-wall Chloe put her foot on the bottom step and leaned forward, “Boyd!” She called, tilting her head to the side in a way Ajani refused to admit he found amusing or endearing in any way. The sound of wheels rolling across the floor was what she may have been waiting for as she stepped back. Ajani noticed for the first time that there was a chair attached to the railing of the stairs which steadily began to ascend them; the machinery barely making a noise as it did so.
Ajani waited apprehensively to see what Boyd would look like, trying to reign in any instinctive reactions he might have if the other young man was severely disabled, feeling ashamed of himself for even having to do so. Since when was he one of those people who actually cared about such a thing, he shook his head and bit back a gasp of surprise as Boyd came into sight.
To say that the other young man was good looking would be a horrible oversight, because he was amazingly good looking, almost angelic in his looks, despite his apparent paralysis and the brace that climbed his back holding him in place. Boyd had inky black hair that hung in his eyes and seemed to shine with an almost ethereal quality, his skin was olive coloured and his eyes were an intense brown that seemed to pierce directly through Ajani. “Has anyone ever told you it’s not very polite to stare?” His voice was roughened with lack of use or possibly sleep, but had a smooth quality that suggested an undertone of soft velvet.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Ajani trailed off rubbing the back of his neck, this was just…he didn’t know what he was going to do now. Everything he had suppressed for so long out of an instinct for survival swirled inside of him at a dizzying pace; causing him to have to reach over and grip the edge of the table he was standing next to. “I think you’re supposed to show me around,” He murmured weakly, his eyes averted to the floor.
Chloe nodded, clapping her hands together quite loudly, the sound causing Ajani to flinch. “Exactly, I have to be getting to work but I should be home around 5 o’clock or so. Boyd if you could gather the rest of the boys to get dinner together before than that would be great.” She told him, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Love you sweetling,” She headed for the door closing it behind her.
“C’mon upstairs,” Boyd told him, smiling wryly, the expression seeming to lighten his face and make it seem less like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’ll show you to your room,” He muttered before he pushed the button, the chair lift quickly moving up the stair railing.
Ajani waited a few moments, unsure if he was supposed to climb the stairs right after the other boy, if that would even be okay or not. This entire situation just proved to become more and more surreal as time went on he found, climbing the steps at a slow pace as he thought to himself, seemingly lost in a daze.
Boyd snickered to himself once he was in his wheelchair and turned to find that the new boy wasn’t even half way up the stairs yet, obviously day dreaming about something or other. Not that he could really blame him as sometimes it was all orphans had to do if they wanted to distance themselves from reality. Yeah the new kid seemed to be a regular Anne Shirley alright. “Hey Ajani, you could move a little faster,” A mocking tone entered his voice, almost a challenge just to see how the older boy would respond.
“Oh sorry,” Ajani apologized quickly, not rising to the bait as he moved a little faster up the steps. When he reached the top he looked down at Boyd, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and exertion. “I was just…looking around, this house is certainly…” He trailed off trying to find the right word for it but found himself coming up empty for anything that wouldn’t be insulting.
“Interesting? Eclectic? Ambient? Absolutely and completely fucking nuts?” Boyd easily supplied him with descriptions for the house.
“Every teenager who has passed through this house has left their mark on it, mine is the red kitchen. It’s my favourite colour and after I saw something like it in an Ikea catalogue I decided to design my own version. Chloe fell in love with the idea and presto, blinding the moment you walk into the house.” He wheeled down the hallway as he spoke, not caring if the other boy was following him or not. If he wasn’t and couldn’t find his room later on then it wasn’t his fault; Ajani was the one who kept spacing out. “Your room is connected to mine via the bathroom- always knock. I’m sorry you’ll have to deal with a low sink because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to reach it.” He informed him, turning into said bathroom.
Ajani looked around the bathroom as he walked in after Boyd, keeping at a distance just in case the smaller boy was to turn or move suddenly and wheel over his toes. That would definitely be the highlight to what was already a humiliating day. The bright lights made him squint once Boyd flicked the switch; it was standard but no less impressive. Stainless steel bars along certain walls, such as near the toilet and the bath/shower obviously meant to make Boyd’s life easier. It was all done in black and white marble, the tiles on the shower walls a clear glass. He also noticed, with a flush on his cheeks that the doors to the shower seemed to be completely transparent meaning if anyone were to walk…or roll in they would get to see him laid bare.
“It’s not so bad once you get used to it. We’re all guys here, and it’s just you and me using this bathroom,” Boyd said, breaking him out of yet another stupor as though he had managed to read Ajani’s mind. “Didn’t you ever have to share a room or a bathroom before?”
Shaking his head Ajani huffed softly when hair fell into his face; frustrated he shoved it out of his eyes and turned back to Boyd after taking a quick look around. He didn’t want to talk about his past, absolutely wouldn’t talk about it, not his brother, or his supposed “daddy.” “So which room is mine?” He asked, noticing the two doors on either side of them.
“The door to your right, you can tell which room is mine from the hallway because my door is decorated with posters of my fantasy lover,” Boyd smirked somewhat, “Something tells me no one is going to mistake you as being the one who wants to bend Davey Havok over a table and have your wild, wicked, fantastic way with him.” He chuckled softly to himself, clearly proud at having flustered Ajani who seemed as red as a tomato at the moment.
“I’m more into Jade Puget, and that’s mostly for music then looks,” Ajani responded quickly, catching the drift of how Boyd worked. Perhaps it would just be a lot better if he played along with the other boy. “So it’s just through here,” He opened the door, surprised at the dark purple colour that somehow managed to not look too effeminate. “I can decorate any way I want?” He asked, glancing back at Boyd and arching an eyebrow.
Boyd smiled, glad that Ajani seemed to be catching on somewhat. “Yeah, Chloe just asks that we don’t have anything too crazy or violent on the walls. She likes to promote a peaceful and cohesive environment for everyone living here, which means no mocking gays or cripples as the case may be. One guy did and she grounded him for like two weeks. He was only here for a month too.” He seemed happy about the fact, “He was a stupid fucker regardless.”
Ajani nodded, at a loss for words suddenly. He had no questions, just swirling confusion in his head which would be solved when he realized what the deal was here. There had to be some ulterior motive here, tax write off, tax pay off or something. No one was this nice to him ever, not even his real family although he hadn’t seen them in years. He dropped his bag on the bed in his room, noticing for now that the sheets and duvet were a plain white- probably giving him the option of choosing his own colours.
“How long have you lived here?” Ajani found himself asking before he could stop himself, wincing at the blunt question. He knew he hated being asked such things but could never seem to stop himself from asking other people. “I’m sorry.”
Boyd tilted his head to the side, seeming to stare directly through Ajani with an intensity that made him step back, swallowing roughly. “Why would you apologize for something like that? Honestly, coming here was one of the best things that could’ve happened to me. It’s probably one of the best things that could ever happen to you as well, if you would just give it a chance.” His tongue suggested that he didn’t believe for one second that Ajani would actually try.
“I moved here on my twelfth birthday, about a month or two after I was in the accident that caused this to happen,” He tapped the wheel of his chair. “I can work out my legs, and I can work out my upper half but the two just don’t want to work together anymore.” It didn’t seem to bother him, at least not to Ajani it didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” He apologized again, “I can’t even begin to imagine what something like that would be like. Especially at such a young age,” He murmured roughly, feeling uncomfortable he rubbed the back of his neck and hoped for some kind of forgiveness from Boyd for his loose tongue.
Smiling wryly the wheelchair bound boy shook his head, “Again you apologize. I’m going to tell you my philosophy about apologies, Ajani, and I think it’s certainly something you need to take into account,” Boyd informed him. “Only apologize for that which you can control,” He advised, moving further into the room, the wheels of his chair squeaking across the hard wood floor, leaving two marks over top of what seemed to be hundreds.
“If something has happened to me in the past and you had something to do with it, then it’s time to apologize. But an accident, over which even the drivers of each car had no control because it was a stormy night, you don’t have to apologize,” He spread his arms wide, gesturing at nothing in particular. “Does that sound good to you?”
“My little sister died…and my mum…that’s why I’m here, but before I came here everyone kept telling me how sorry they were.” Ajani remembered the looks of pity everyone shot him whenever he went everywhere. “I was so torn between wanting to hit them for even attempting to sympathise or yelling at them that they should’ve been sorry because they didn’t do anything to help.”
Boyd looked slightly shocked for a moment, not having been told anything behind the circumstances for Ajani’s arriving at the house. “I think you’ll do fine here Ajani, I really do,” He said encouragingly, his eyes slightly warmed now towards the able boy.
Ajani looked back at him, noticing how much more open he looked now and couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “I think I might,” He turned his back looking around the room. “I should probably get going on this project, I mean, decorating and getting my stuff put away.”
Sensing Ajani’s need to be alone, to adjust Boyd nodded wisely, backing out of the room, “If you need anything, I’m just a few steps away,” He closed the door to the bathroom.
Sinking down on the bed Ajani ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath he fell back, staring at the ceiling, squinting at the poetic quotes written there. “For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, “It might have been.” Too right,” He murmured to himself before closing his eyes and submitting to the bliss that was sleep.
