i still wish you the best-- rhia.

[jesssix]

from the moment that we're born,
until the moment we're old and tired--
will you ever really know me?

Standing outside of Drhystan's apartment, muffin basket in hand, Margot lifted her hand to knock on his door. As her knuckles made contact with the wood, the basket began to slip, and she did a little dance to try and prevent it from falling to the ground. "Shit," she squealed, pulling her knee up to steady it as she cupped the basket in the crook of her left arm.

The week before she'd been in the exact spot, lifting her hand nervously to tap on the door. Only she'd been there under different circumstances. Sure this time she was nervous, but it wasn't the same kind of anxious, why-isn't-he-answering nervousness that she'd experienced days before. This time she was scared he'd open the door, take one look at her and slam it in her face. Which, funnily enough, he'd done the first time she'd payed a visit, but only because he'd been half-naked.

Little butterflies fluttered around her stomach, and she shifted her weight to her left leg, balancing the basket not only in the crook of her arm, but against her hip as well. She couldn't believe she was waiting in the crowded hall, waiting to present him with a peace offering. How weak and silly are you little girl? The voice in the back of her mind whispered, feeding her doubt. Do you really think he'll take you back after he knows you're broken?

Running a hand through her dark chestnut hair, Margot bit her lip. She wasn't going to back down. She needed to do this. She was sure it was the right thing. And boys liked muffins, didn't they? They were buttery, baked and filled with chocolate chips and fruits. Her eyes dropped to the basket, and she sighed. What the hell did she know about food? The most she ate was a fat-free, sugar-free, everything-free yogurt and a cup of tea.

Another part of the reason she was there was to talk about food. To talk about her problems, and to beg him not to break any more bones in his body. She couldn't stand to watch someone else get hurt when she was struggling. She couldn't ruin two lives.

Taking a deep breath, Margot raised her hand another time. Was he even there? Maybe she'd missed him. Fuck, now she just looked like an idiot waiting. With an exaggerated sigh, she decided she'd give it another few seconds before she left the basket at his door with the little get-well card and hope the boys in his dorm didn't take it.

[DRHYSTAN ERIC MACKENZIE]

Down to the earth I fell,
With dripping wings;
Heavy things don't fly.

Rhys was trying to plan out his next lesson plan. He hadn't gotten any sleep, because he hand had been bugging him all night. Or, he assumed it was, since he couldn't feel anything, but still couldn't get to sleep whenever he tried to move and adjust himself. So, he was lying awake in his bed, daydreaming about having two usable hands, along with feeling, and maybe even a new pet dog or something. Yeah, that would be nice. Instead, he was here, in a big ol' school filled with strange people just like him. Strange in the demigod and unnatural sense, though. Not in the deranged, "cut myself to make sure I'm still alive" way. There was something about today that was digging at Rhys' brain. He could feel it coming, but he hand no idea what. And then, the knocking started on his door.
"It was nice while it lasted, at least..." He nodded, sitting up on his bed.

With a loud sigh at the continuous knocking on his door, Rhys groaned and rolled off of his bed, scratching his bare chest. He took his dear sweet time getting to the door, by grabbing a glass of water, along with a piece of toast. He inhaled the toast and groaned when he heard another knock at the door. Damn it, kids these days just didn't know when to give up with getting help from teachers, did they? He ran his hand through his hair and let it fall back down so he could pick up his glass of water, and walked to the door, before staring at the door knob.
"I didn't think this through." He glanced from the water in his hand, to the doorknob and sighed, going back to the table to set it down. Walking back to the door,he opened it partially and blinked when he saw Margot there, before opening the door fully. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him in his boxers before; pyjama pants were no worse.

"I talked to that boy. What else do you need?" Rhys raised an eyebrow, watching her face closely. His eyes wandered slowly to the basket in her hands and the corners of his mouth twisted into a confused grimace. "Are those muffins?" He raised one eyebrow even higher than it was already and pushed the door open farther, to keep it from falling closed on her. She brought him muffins. Would she even eat anything she had just brought him? What a freakin'... Ugh.
"My hand is fine, you know. Not like I can feel it." He shrugged and stepped back, motioning for her to come in while his arm raised to scratch at his temple. His mouth fell open slightly while he did so, and then closed tight when he drew his hand away.
"Have a seat." He pointed. "If I get you a glass of water, will you drink it?" He closed the door and stepped over to the table, sipping at his own glass of water.

Tags! Jessie/Margot. Words! Eh, a decent amount.
Notes! lol. What a little fucker.
Credit! It's a-me! Mario! I mean, Rhia!

[jesssix]

from the moment that we're born,
until the moment we're old and tired--
will you ever really know me?

Having a bare chest seemed to be a common theme when it came to her visits, and Margot smiled shyly as she tried not to stare. Men had it so easy. They could eat, jump on a treadmill and have abs like a god. Clearing her throat, she shifted her weight again, wrapping both arms around the basket now that she didn't have to knock. She didn't quite know what to expect, and by the surprise on Drhystan's face, it didn't seem like he did either.

Margot paused at his question, not fully understanding what he meant. After a few awkward moments of silence, she laughed. "Oh, ah. Thank you. He hasn't been giving me any trouble. I really appreciate it." She nodded, extending her arms to show him the muffins. "Uhm, yes. They're muffins. I made them myself... I hope they taste okay. I didn't really understand the instructions."

Trying to keep a pleasant expression on her face, she stepped inside. "I'm glad it's okay." She chirped, placing the muffins on his kitchen table and plucking the card from inside. "Maybe this will help with the recovery?" She added, holding it out to him. She didn't really have any experience buying cards, and when faced with isles and isles that ranged from weddings to birthdays to death, she'd felt somewhat overwhelmed.

Nevertheless, Margot had read almost every card in the store, and after what seemed like hours of failed searching she discovered the 'singing card' section. Her reaction to the cheesy, but amusing cards was similar to that of a child at Christmas--excited, enchanted and completely in love. She couldn't believe she'd never heard of them before--they were genius, and her stomach did little flip flops at the thought of him opening it.

"If I get you a glass of water, will you drink it?" Her excitement fizzled, and her shoulders slumped slightly as she leaned against the table-top. "I drink water, Drhystan." She answered simply, pushing down the anger that bubbled up her throat. She didn't want to lose her temper. Not when she was trying hard to make things better.

[DRHYSTAN ERIC MACKENZIE]

Down to the earth I fell,
With dripping wings;
Heavy things don't fly.

Rhys blinked and raised an eyebrow at the muffins in the basket. No wonder they looked so lumpy and deformed. He set down the glass of water and picked up a muffin, eying it carefully.
"What's in them?" He sniffed it curiously and gave it a little lick. He turned away from her in case he would grimace and quite possibly vomit, but... he just shrugged. It wasn't the worst he'd had. His mother was horrible at cooking, and baking. With a sigh, he bit into it and chewed slowly, managing to swallow it. It had way too much brown sugar, and not enough vanilla extract.
"Not the worst I've had, but you need to work on those baking skills if you intend to impress a man who went to culinary school for two years." He flipped the muffin around in his hand and set it down, so he could take a sip of water. having a broken hand fucking sucked. Especially when it was his writing hand, as well as... well... you know. What men did when they got lonely.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he at down across the table and blinked, watching her closely as she decided if she wanted a glass of water. when she finally answered him, he put the car down that she had given him and went to the little fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. He poured it into the cup he had gotten for her and returned to the table, setting it down in front of her. her hands came up and handed him the card again and he raised an eyebrow, reading it out loud.
"Hi there! Hope your recovery goes swimmingly..." He smiled a bit and looked up at her. "Finding Nemo? Really?" He rolled his eyes and looked back down at the card, opening it up. He jumped a bit when it started to play Dory's voice singing loudly to him. Right around the, "JUST SWIM, SWIM, SWIM!" Part, he kept reading.
"Happy birthday! I mean, get well soon." He closed the card and held it up to his face, staring at it.

"Dear diary, today Margot bought me a singing card and baked a chef some muffins. breakthrough number 1." He mused to himself, before setting the card down and walking back over to his seat. He sat down with a thud and picked up the rest of the muffin he had been eating, taking a bite of it. Without really looking up at her, he moved the basket to the other side of the table, and put his feet up, wiggling his socked toes.
"So, something tells me you're not exactly here to just bring me muffins and singing Dory cards, are you?" He glanced up and offered a weak smile, taking another bite of muffin. They were beginning to grow on him. Mostly because of the thought that she had actually tried to make something. With sugar. By following a baking instruction thing.

Tags! Jessie/Margot. Words! Eh, a decent amount.
Notes! lol. What a little fucker.
Credit! It's a-me! Mario! I mean, Rhia!

[jesssix]

from the moment that we're born,
until the moment we're old and tired--
will you ever really know me?

"I tried," Margot shrugged, biting her lip as he set the muffin down on the table and sipped at his water. Copying his movements, she raised her own glass to her lips and gulped down half the contents before choking and setting it down with a thump. Continuing to cough, she lifted her arms above her head. Her cheeks reddened, and when she finally stopped, her arms dropped to the surface and she rasped for air. "Note to self: do not try and drink fast. Results in near-death." She joked lightly, trying to hide her discomfort. Great, now you're not only anorexic, but unable to drink. Congratulations.

"Finding Nemo, really." Margot grinned, resting her chin on her clasped hands. "Did you know that the store has a full section filled with cards that sing to you? C'est merveileux! She blurted, then shut her mouth, cheeks flushing light pink. Could you get anymore awkward?! She smirked, dropping her hands into her lap and playing with the buttons on her cardigan. Peeking up at him through her lashes, she noticed him jump and her smirk turned into a full-blown smile. His reaction was even better than she imagined.

"Dear diary, today Margot bought me a singing card and baked a chef some muffins. Breakthrough number 1." Margot stared at him, eyes wide. Leaning forward, she placed both hands on the cool surface of his kitchen table. "You... have... a diary?" Margot whispered, hair tumbling over her shoulders and tickling her forearms. Her face contorted with concern, but her eyes betrayed her. Instead of concern, they danced with amusement. She was trying hard to be the girl that joked and pulled pranks on him. Just like the old days.

But naturally, every conversation had to become serious. She leaned back, drumming her fingers along the table rhythmically. "Yes, this visit wasn't all about muffins and singing cards." Margot mumbled, pausing as she tried to sort out her thoughts. She'd prepared for this. So why couldn't she remember? Lifting her hands to her head, Margot rubbed her temples. "I guess, what I am trying to say is..." What did she want to say? Oh right, that she was sorry. "That I am sorry for putting you through what I did. That you didn't deserve to be treated that way." She shrugged, returning the weak smile. "No one should have to see that sort of thing."

[DRHYSTAN ERIC MACKENZIE]

Down to the earth I fell,
With dripping wings;
Heavy things don't fly.

Rhys nearly launched himself over the table when he saw that she was choking, but stopped when he was half on, because of the fact that she was speaking again. He blinked awkwardly and grabbed another muffin, holding it up.
"I wanted a muffin." He motioned, then sat back down, taking awkwardly little bites while she spoke. He blinked a bit when she asked if he had a diary and laughed a bit, shaking his head.
"Real men write journals, not diaries." He chuckled softly and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He still needed that haircut from before... He was such a lazy-ass. With a loud sigh, he leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes, putting the muffin down.

Rhys felt uncomfortable. Not in the painful kind of way, but, just like... He should be doing something. Something other than just sitting there. But his arm didn't really let him do much, other than laze around and whine to himself and not even be able to write or draw or play robot unicorn attack on facebook. It really, really sucked. But, it was his fault... mostly. So he couldn't bitch to her about it, as much as it sucked. It'd probably just make her go puke out the glass of water he gave her or something. He sighed softly and leaned forward onto the table, on his good arm, with his chin in his palm, listening to her talk while she tried to apologize for the events that had gotten his hand broken.

"No one deserves to do that to themselves in the first place." He retorted calmly. He had known her for a while, and been on her case for just as long. "You can't help it, I guess. You're sick." He leaned back and shrugged, before itching the inside of his cast. It got extremely itchy inside, and he wished he could just tear it off and break his hand back into place.
"Is that all?" He looked up at her sadly, wondering if she was even going to get help for her problem. If she wasn't, he didn't know what he'd do. He was head over heels for the damn girl. What the hell was her supposed to do?

Tags! Jessie/Margot. Words! Eh, a decent amount.
Notes! lol. What a little fucker.
Credit! It's a-me! Mario! I mean, Rhia!

[jesssix]

from the moment that we're born,
until the moment we're old and tired--
will you ever really know me?

Margot's eyes bugged out of her head. Staring as he slowly retreated, muffin in hand. "Erm, okay. I'm glad you like them?" Margot smiled, crossing her legs and shaking her foot back and forth. Her eyes drifted to the basket, and she frowned. They looked disgusting, and not because she didn't eat. Shrugging, she traced small designs on the table-top with her index finger, listening to him as he spoke.

"You can't help it, I guess. You're sick." Well, that much was obvious. Her hands started to shake, and she lifted her right, running it through her hair to get her bangs out of her eyes. She wanted to open up and blurt everything she had on her mind, but something was keeping her from doing so. It really shouldn't have been that difficult. Rhys was nice, he seemed to care about her, and she felt like he was willing to listen, no matter how much it disgusted him.

He looked sad more than anything. Like he knew she wouldn't change. But he was wrong. She wanted to change, she just didn't know how. She'd been starving herself since she was able to pack her own lunch. She was scared. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want to be fat. She didn't want to imagine herself with thighs that brushed together, a stomach that rolled when she sat.

"Is that all?" She shook her head, panic and nervousness intertwining as she shifted in her seat. She could do this. She could try. Pulling her phone out of her jean pocket, she set it gently on the table. "I need you to help me call the rehabilitation center." She whispered, dropping her hands into her lap. Was this what she wanted, or was she just trying to convince the handsome man sitting across from her? There was no hurt in trying, was there? She could manage that. But was she ready to accept it?

[DRHYSTAN ERIC MACKENZIE]

Down to the earth I fell,
With dripping wings;
Heavy things don't fly.

Rhys watched as she put the phone on the table. She seemed so nervous. He almost felt bad for her. Almost. But it was her situation. She had gotten herself into it, and she had to get herself out. He would be there to support her, but it was her decision in the long run. His hand raised up to his hair to rake through it, and he found himself staring awkwardly at the phone as she slide it closer to him. What the hell was he supposed to do with her phone? He bit his lip and looked up at her, raising an eyebrow with a look of utmost curiosity on his face. As she spoke quietly, almost a whisper, his eyes widened a bit. She wanted him to call for her? His mouth twisted slightly into a frown and he bit his lip, staring at the phone. Yeah, he'd dial the number, maybe even ask for information. But to actually check her into the place? No. She had to do that on her own. She had to commit to it. Just because he was worried didn't make him her babysitter. Though he was starting to feel like one, just slightly.

His hand raised to his face and he closed his eyes, rubbing at the corner between the bridge of his nose, and his left eye. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh before picking up the phone and standing up.
"Margot..." He mumbled softly, moving over to her and kneeling in front of her. He placed the phone in her lap and smiled weakly, putting her hands around it. "I can dial. But that's as far as I'm going. You have to be able to do it. It has to be you." He raised his hand and placed it to her cheek, smiling brightly.
"Maybe you'll even get a sexy man-coach with nice arms and a killer smile." He chuckled softly and leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "Here." He took her phone back and dialled in a number, something he had know off-by-heart for a long while, before handing the phone back to her.

He pointed to the talk button and smiled, before leaning against the table a bit.
"If you call, the next kiss will be there." He pointed to her lips and smirked, winking at her. With a little sigh, he stood up and stretched as best as he could, before flopping down on his couch, still watching her carefully.
"Press the button, make an appointment, and I'll take you down. I promise I won't leave your side." He smiled reassuringly and motioned for her to press the button again.

Tags! Jessie/Margot. Words! Eh, a decent amount.
Notes! (: He's gonna be a good husband someday.
Credit! It's a-me! Mario! I mean, Rhia!

[jesssix]

from the moment that we're born,
until the moment we're old and tired--
will you ever really know me?

Margot nodded, picking up the small phone from her lap and holding it to her ear. The other end was ringing, and she flinched at the loudness of it. Her nerves were a wreck. It was almost as if every end had been snipped and set on fire.

When his lips pressed to her forehead, she couldn't help but blush. Sure, he he may have been joking about the sexy coach with a killer smile, but even if he was sexy he wouldn't compare to Drhystan. Not at all.

"If you call, the next kiss will be there." She shivered, clutching the phone tightly in her hand, skin pulling tight against her knuckles. She had something to work toward, and there was no way she wasn't going to get it. She wanted that fucking kiss.

"Hi, you've reached the Seattle Psychiatric Hospital. How may I help you?" Margot's hands began to sweat and she curled her legs up on the chair, wrapping her free arm around her knees to pull them close to her chest. Taking a big gulp of air, she dropped her forehead to her lap.

"Uhm, yes. Hi. I, uhm..." She paused, trying to think of what to say. She lifted her head slightly to look at Rhys for encouragement. "Press the button, make an appointment, and I'll take you down. I promise I won't leave your side." She nodded, smiling nervously. "I, uhm... need to make an appointment."

The woman on the other end seemed overly happy. With a few clicks, and tapping on what Margot assumed was a keyboard, the woman answered. "Alright dear, what do you need to make an appointment for?"

"Well, uhm. Anorexia." She replied coldly, blood draining from her face. She'd never said to words aloud to herself. They sounded completely and utterly foreign.

"Oh my, of course dear. I'll set you up with our specialist for this Thursday at 3:00 PM. Does that sound okay?" Margot gulped, nodding frantically. Wait, the woman couldn't see that. She was on the phone. "Yes, that's fine." She whispered, shifting uncomfortably.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Oh shit, right. Her name. What if her doctor contacted the school? What if they kept her at the hospital and she wasn't able to teach? There were so many possibilities and none sounded good... but she had to do this. She didn't want to wither away. "Margot Giroux."

The woman on the other end clicked and typed some more before asking some general questions about her family doctor, her address and her phone number. The process was quite intrusive to be honest, and when Margot finally hung up and dropped her phone onto the table, she was exhausted. "Done." She sighed, smiling shyly as she stretched her back and heard the satisfying cracks.

[DRHYSTAN ERIC MACKENZIE]

Down to the earth I fell,
With dripping wings;
Heavy things don't fly.

Rhys leaned forward on his couch and watched anxiously as she spoke, biting his lip. He was worried. He didn't know why; he knew she'd do it, but... Still. He was really worried about her. Not in a "I want to take care of you" kind of way, but just like... How a man should be worried about someone he cares about. He wasn't exactly sure what the disgusting feeling in his stomach was, but he didn't like it much. It felt like someone was twisting his anxious-muscle or something, and making his stomach flip around and worry even harder. He felt like a huge little wimp; like he was just completely helpless against her. Truth be told, he was. He was terrified of actually starting something. Especially with a woman who wouldn't sit there and eat his food happily and compliment him on how amazing it was. That was the kind of life he wanted. So why was he even going after her?

Against his better judgment, he rose to his feet as she finished her phone call and walked over cautiously. He saw her arms raise into the air and heard the pops in her spine and he smiled slightly, taking her left hand gently in his own while it was still up in the air. With a gentle tug, he pulled her right out of the seat and into his free arm, still holding her hand slightly into the air. He pressed his hand to the small of her back delicately and tugged her even closer, before releasing her hand, which he felt fall slowly onto his shoulder. The hand that had been holding her left, lowered slowly to her face and brushed the hair from her face before a smile lit up his features.

"I could get used to you being around." He grinned sheepishly and put his hand to her cheek, stroking at her cheek. "So I need to make sure you'll be able to." He mumbled quietly, leaning in to close the distance between their faces.

His lips caught her up easily and he found himself tugging her face closer. Once he pulled away, he chuckled and let her go, still standing in front of her.
"When's your appointment?" He tilted his head, smiling. He didn't want to know to be nosy; He wanted to know so he could make sure she actually got there and didn't skip it.

Tags! Jessie/Margot. Words! Eh, a decent amount.
Notes! (: He's gonna be a good husband someday.
Credit! It's a-me! Mario! I mean, Rhia!