beauty of the broken | lewd and kckolbe

[Fennec]

Ice blue eyes that were perpetually red, empty and slightly sunken stared back at Alana as she received her reflection. This was the best she looked in two weeks, which didn’t say much. There was still a cut above her eyebrow and a yellow bruise on her cheek. Broken arms were weight down with the casts that kept them from moving while she healed, an everyday reminded how how badly she fucked up and how “lucky” she was. She wore a simple lace bra and panties under a modest black dress. Her fiery hair was brushed and had some of it’s old shine. She even wore favorite perfume.

None of it was of her own doing. Eric stepped up after the accident and a lot of people disapproved, but he was the only person Alana could deal with for an extended period of time. He took over as caretaker, making sure she showered and cleaned her wounds, helping her get dressed, feeding her, administering her meds. He was there when she woke up screaming or she broke down and cried. He made sure she still felt human and she wasn’t sure where’d she’d be if he wasn’t there. She'd forgotten how much he affected. Afterall, Alana couldn’t do anything her herself, she couldn’t move her hands for the next 4 weeks and most likely wouldn’t have full mobility for another 6 weeks. She couldn’t even suck her thumb, the only means of self comfort she actually indulged in. The thought of it made her tongue slide along the back of teeth.

Alana took a deep breath and walked out her bedroom door, her feet still bare as she thought about what led to this day. Her car was in the shop and she needed to go to work. He offered his as long as she could drop him off at his and pick him up. She happily agreed and picked him up after work. She drove as it didn’t make sense to switch for a ten minute drive. She remembered he was telling her about the merger between his company and one of their competitors as she got on the ramp to merge on the expressway. She missed the car that was changing lanes and collided with it. Apparently the other car hooked onto hers before it spun out of control and forced their car onto the other lane, a third car collided into the passenger side, something she didn’t see before blacking out. Firefighters had to pry them out of the debris. Her father died on impact, smashed and broken. There was nothing to save. She was in and out of consciousness for two days before she found out he was dead.

Alana stopped in front Eric’s door, calming the urge to lift her arm and knock.

“Eric.” Her voice was still just as light and soft as before, if slightly raspy.

“Are you ready to go to….” Her nostrils flared as her throat tightened. She couldn’t say it.

“I’ll wait downstairs.”

 

[kckolbe]

This was the first morning he'd had to go through the routine of helping her shower and get dressed. It had been a rather surreal experience. On one hand, it was the first time he'd seen her naked in person in years, though he had been kept "up to date" on how her body had been developing via text messages. She'd looked great, even after having spent a couple of weeks in the hospital. However, her depressed, half-awake, arms-in-casts-that-he-had-to-put-plastic-bags-over look wasn't quite as arousing as he'd hoped, though he had been hard the entire time they were in the shower together. That hardness had brushed against her more than once, a situation that would have meant good times under just about any other circumstances. In this case, though, he'd had to continue actually washing her hair.

There had been nice moments, though. He'd been able to enjoy her body as he dried her off, teasing her about how it was a good thing she'd sent him so many pictures so he could look at her without going completely brain dead. And as he dressed her, he'd complimented her a lot on how great she looked, the choice of lace panties having been his. She'd sat on his lap while he brushed her red hair and then rolled the lint off her black dress.

He'd visited her several times while she was in the hospital. At first she'd been unconscious, then just vacant. It wasn't until the third time, when she'd been a bit incoherent from pain meds and depression, that she'd really spoken with him at all. It was then that he'd offered to stay with her, and he still couldn't believe she'd said yes, though he made sure to remind her of that arrangement in subsequent visits until the time came to actually take her home. He'd had high hopes of some fun cuddle sessions and making up for lost time, but she'd pretty much just gone to bed after he helped her undress.

Once she was ready, he hurried and got dressed himself, all but his shoes on when she called through the door. He jogged over and opened it, smiling sadly. "I'm almost ready." Within a couple of minutes, the two of them were in the car and on their way to the funeral.

 

[Fennec]

Alana wanted to leave the moment they arrived. Eyes followed wherever she went, scrutinized her, made her feel even smaller than she already was. She stayed ever close to Eric, using his warmth for comfort while the priest read scriptures from the bible, her own eyes on the silver coffin that would be lowered into the ground. The casket was closed and she was grateful. Her last memories of her father wouldn’t be gruesome.

People laid flowers on his coffin, Eric’s mother said a few words, and eyes watched her expectantly. She wouldn’t speak. She had nothing to say. Her father was gone and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She also didn’t want to share what memories she had of him. They suddenly felt too precious. The occasional hand would brush her arm or cup her shoulder as a show of support, but it only made her press closer towards her brother. It was getting to be too much. But they’d begun lowering the silver box into the ground and she wouldn’t leave until it was complete.

Her mind wandered to the days where she would sit in his study coloring with her favorite homemade hot chocolate while her father worked. He would take occasional breaks to see her progress or color with her and whenever she finished, he would add it to his wall until it was filled with her drawings. He would always tell her to look how far she’d come over the years, going from stick figures to precise renderings. What she wouldn’t give to have that back.

“Eric…” Her voice was hoarse and it was then that she realized tears were streaming down her face. She naturally tried to raise her arms to wipe them away only to come up short as a searing pain shot up her arm. It only made the tears come faster. “Eric I don’t want to be here. I want to go home now.” She looked up him through bright tear stained eyes, her face taking on a pink hue.

“Honey why don’t you come with me? I can make you a nice meal and we can sit and talk for a bit. I’m sure your father wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone.” She heard his mother before she saw her. Alana turned in the direction of Mary’s voice, a frown marring her features.

“No. I don’t want to. I want to go home with Eric.” She looked at him again. “He’ll be with me.” She didn’t understand why his mother kept asking her to do things she didn’t want to do. It wasn’t fair and she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Alana didn’t notice the strange look that crossed Mary’s face or the shift in her own speech patterns, too focused on her own needs. The coffin was in the ground and she no longer needed to be there.

 

[kckolbe]

Eric was aware of the way Alana followed him around and stayed close to him, but didn't know what to make of it. This morning at home she had been all but motionless, barely reacting with anything more than surprise at his touch and generally acting a statue when she hadn't needed to move. He'd thought about their shower all morning, looking forward to it beforehand and dwelling on it since. He understood her not being as flirty or playful or affectionate given all she'd been through, but he could not have imagined reality falling so far short of what he'd imagined.

Like Alana, Eric had had eyes on him as well, largely coming right after they'd looked at Alana. Many hadn't known they were staying together during all of this, but it seemed word had gotten out at some point, since there were quite a few odd looks. He noticed a disapproving look from his mom as well, and she walked over in a brief moment while he and Alana were separated, though fortunately she hadn't pressed the issue then. She'd already called him over the phone once to express her "concerns," and would likely do so again.

He stayed quiet during the funeral, occasionally stroking Alana's back since her casts prevented him from stroking her arms. He was relieved when she said she wanted to leave. Being around her today was awkward enough without everyone judging.

Of course his mom had to make one last effort. Oh well, lucky for Eric, his mom's disapproval had rarely hurt Alana's interest in spending time with him. If anything, she'd made his company more enticing in the past. Grinning to himself, Eric leaned in to Alana and whispered in her ear as he walked her to his car. "Mom doesn't think I should be dressing and undressing you, or sharing a bed. I think we should change clothes as soon as we get home, then maybe take a nap." Granted, his mom hadn't mentioned the bed (he hadn't shared that detail), but he wasn't above generating ammo.

As they drove back home, he was in a MUCH better mood.

 

[Fennec]

The drive home was stressful. Alana managed to ignore the fact that she was in a car on the way there as her mind was filled with thoughts of the impending funeral. Now that it was over, she found that she was more aware of her surrounds and more importantly, in the death trap that took her father away. She tried her best to quell the churning in her stomach as they drove home and her only saving grace was that the house wasn’t too far away. Even so, her face was flushed from the blood coursing through her veins and her fast beating heart. Her skin was tingly and hot and all she wanted to do was get out of her clothes.

When they finally made it home and into the house, she immediately shucked her shoes off and turned to look at her brother, Eric. “You said, you’d help me change?” Her mind flashed back to the funeral and the words he whispered in her ear. She knew his mother didn’t approve of the way he acted towards her. It always used to amuse her how often he took the blame for how their relationship evolved when she was just as much to blame.

Alana always liked the way he looked at her, the way he touched her. He was always encouraging of her sexual explorations, always there to listen and definitely there to make sure she knew she looked good. He made her feel safe and secure...among other things. She walked towards him, her grey eyes filled a warmth that had been missing for the past few weeks.

“I don’t want to be in these uncomfortable clothes anymore...but I don’t want to take a nap.” If anyone could help Alana, it was Eric. “I want to be distracted.”

 

[kckolbe]

Alana wasn't the only one for whom the trip home was stressful. In Eric's mind, it had taken forever. He'd done his best to drive at a nice, relaxed rate as they made their way back from the funeral, but he had conflicting motivations fighting for control. On one hand, he wanted to avoid driving recklessly (or in a way that Alana, in her state of heightened nerves, would view as reckless), because he knew she was uncomfortable in cars. On the other, he knew that his mother had unknowingly given him a gift, and he wanted to hurry home to properly (or improperly) accept it. Her disapproval of the necessary "closeness" he and Alana were sharing while she recovered was all but a guaranteed motivator for unnecessary closeness. Eric had never fully understood why she had reacted like that, but he had always made sure to give her an outlet of his choosing to funnel that motivation toward. In the end, he ended up driving a bit too fast when he had open road, though he at least did his best to avoid swerving around to the fastest lanes.

He followed her closely inside, letting out a sharp sigh of relief when she asked him to confirm he'd help her change. Smiling broadly, he responded with a cheerful "I absolutely did." He closed and locked the door behind him, walking briskly to close the distance between them more quickly. He smiled warmly, if a bit mischievously, and wrapped his arms around his little sister's waist. Looking down at the petite girl, he snaked a hand up her back and undid her zipper, slowly drawing it down. He delicately looped the straps over the casts on her arms, which unfortunately required him to step back. It was a difficult process to manage with grace, given that her arms could not bend, but it was that very limitation of hers that allowed him the current luxury, so he lost none of his cheerfulness in dealing with it. He slid the dress down to the ground, hastily standing back up and moving his hands back around her. "All the uncomfortable clothes need to go," he said as he began unfastening her bra. "I know these aren't comfortable, even if it did look really nice on you."

Removing the dress had taken a nice moment, but it was nothing compared to the slow savoring of removing her bra, to include a healthy look at what that removal revealed. "You know," he started, looking back up at her eyes, "it's really not appropriate for me to even be seeing you in your underwear, much less taking it off." He leaned in against her, a hand sliding down her back and hooking into her panties as he whispered "how comfortable are these?"