take in the beauty that's here [open]

[Layla Whitney]

Layla flopped down cross-legged on the grass, pulled out a handful of blades, and began methodically shredding them, glaring around in the bright evening sunlight as she did so. Her guitar was leaning against her shoulder, and she sighed, pulling it out and examining the damage. The soundboard was scratched, and one string had snapped. Otherwise, it seemed mostly unharmed, but still. Stupid son of a bitch. She'd been in the music studio when it had happened, practicing by herself. She'd left her guitar there for a few minutes, just gone to get a music sheet, and when she'd come back, some idiot kid had dropped a chair on it. It wasn't even as if she'd left it on the floor, just lying against the wall, and yet he'd managed. She'd lost her temper, and the teacher in the room had asked her leave before the situation escalated. Fuck's sake. If she ever saw that little fucker again...

Muttering swearwords and threats she probably wouldn't carry out under her breath, Layla proceeded to re-string her precious guitar, wondering how long it would take before she got that boy on his own, in private. He was taller than her, but he sure as hell wouldn't stand a chance if she was still pissed. All the same, it was nice to be out here, in the peace and quiet, without all the other kids practicing loudly around her. She strummed the guitar a few times, played out a basic chord progression. All seemed to be in working order, thank God. She hummed along to the tune she was playing, singing the words softly to herself.

Free my mind, heal my scars
Erase the past, dark days to forget
And memories to last in my heart

The song calmed her, the gentle melody her fingers picked out on the guitar sounding loud in the still evening air. She was pleased: her voice sounded nice, out here in the peace and quiet. Maybe someone would come out and listen to her. Layla loved being listened to by other people: it reaffirmed that she actually had skill, rather than just over own imagination over-acting. It made her feel appreciated, and people generally didn't think of her as a freak when she was just singing.

[If you want to know, the song is Chasing The Dragon, by Epica]

[morpheusbrown]

Morph sauntered across the grass, towards the girl sitting alone under a tree looking reliably pissed off. Plonking himself down unceremoniously he began to listen, pleasantly surprised. When she’d finished he smirked at her.
“Heya, sweetie. What are you doing out of lessons?” It was fairly obvious she was a musician. The guitar and the singing voice that had been made in heaven were evidence of that. He was fairly sure they were a little more easygoing in Music than Dance. That woman was a slave driver. Point point point, lots of shrieking. Not to mention her ‘no eating means no dancing’ rule. He was fairly sure Jessiekins was about to loose it. It being whatever she had in place of her mind.

Leaning back on the grass he surveyed the girl next to him and smirked again. She was gorgeous. And he… well, he was frustrated. And not the kind you got from your calculus homework. Surveying her, he realised he was being obvious, but didn’t care by this point. There were some things you simply needed. And this was one of them. He was never about to rape that psychiatrist, no matter what anyone said… but he was all about carnal pleasures. And jeez was he all out of them.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a boring place like this?” he smirked at the sky. “Not that I’m complaining. Sometimes I need someone a little… easier on the eyes, you know?” He was talking a lot, he realised that, but maybe she’d feel just like he did. And if that happened he was sure they could make an arrangement. “Could do with some… exercise.” He smirked again. “Or entertainment. Hell, both.” Looking over at her from where he lay on the grass he raised his eyebrows. “Any ideas?”

Plucking a grass stalk he twirled it between his finger and thumb. So he was technically out of dance to get some music the teacher had forgotten. Let them wait. Occasionally there was more to life than dance.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla continued strumming absently on her guitar as the boy spoke, smiling at him. He was good-looking, there was no doubt about that, and obviously interested. Layla bought the guitar music to a gentle close, and replied, "Lost my temper with someone, got myself kicked out. What's your excuse?" She carefully removed the guitar from her lap, lying it on it's case with all the care of a mother with a newborn baby. That guitar had cost her three year's worth of savings, and some idiot had managed to ruin it in less than a minute. Trying to control the rising anger, she looked up at the boy again with a faint smile. He was staring at her; not that she minded. It was nice, getting the attention she'd been missing for a while now.

She grinned at him, resuming her shredding of the grass, except with slightly more grace and less temper this time. "Improving the landscape," she replied with a slight laugh. "And as for ideas, I've got a few that I think might appeal." She shifted, stretched out her legs and leaned back comfortably on her elbows, her gaze sweeping up and down the boy's body. She came to the conclusion that she liked what she saw. She wondered about asking his name, or grouping, at least, but decided against it. She didn't particularly need to know, and unless he was really good, she didn't particularly care either. He was good-looking, and that was good enough for her.

Brushing her hair out of her face, she smiled seductively. "So, you want to try some of them out?" Hopefully, she had interpreted his interest correctly. Maybe he just wanted to hear her play. On the other hand, the blatant innuendos were a big giveaway.

[morpheusbrown]

Morph smirked. “Oh, a feisty girl are you? I always liked that myself. And my thick dance teacher forgot her Chopin.” He smirked. “She’s going to give Jessica Air a breakdown, I swear…” Leaning back, he watched the girl with collected interest. “Says we can’t dance unless we eat enough.” He snorted. It wouldn’t be any trouble for him. For all he ate carefully he ate one heck of a lot – being a dancer meant you had to eat the right stuff, and then you could eat as much of it as you wanted. Unless you chose to eat like an idiot a la Miss Jessica Air.

He chuckled at her joke. People were usually a little more accommodating if you laughed at their jokes. It was pathetic really. “Mmm, I think we should explore the options.” He smiled lopsidedly at her and leaned up on one elbow. “Exercise is never a bad thing… and I love to be entertained.” He leaned over her and smiled seductively back. Leaning closer so their lips were almost touching, he smiled at her. Girls liked it if you at least started slowly, he had noticed. If you jumped straight in with both feet, they got scared, and he was in no mood to be holding this pretty girl down. And she looked like the kind who would blab.

He kissed her gently, sure she’d be alright with this. She seemed like she wanted it as much as he did… and that was a lot. Not having got laid since he arrived here he was in desperate need of some… care and attention. And he might just have found it in this girl. If she was as good as she looked, he’d need to find out who she was. But not now. Later. When they’d been sufficiently entertained.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla laughed out loud at the mention of Jess' name. "Oh, I'd love to see that. I wonder if she's more effective than I am at getting food down that spoiled brat's throat." She leaned back on her hands, smirking slightly at the memory. She really would like to see that happen, wondering if Jess reacted the same way to the dance teacher as she had to Layla. She probably wouldn't call her freak, or kiss her, Layla reckoned. Which just left the crying and begging. Nah, Layla's way had been far better, much more rewarding. Absently, Layla wondered what experience this boy had with Jess. If she was in his dance class, he'd probably had to put up with her showing off and most likely, she'd tried to sleep with him. It fitted: he was good looking, she was hypersexual. In fact, it was a given.

She stayed still as he got closer, resting back on her hands. Let him come to her. When he kissed her, Layla tilted her head to one side slightly, returning the kiss. When they broke apart, she smiled crookedly at him, thinking of saying something. After a second of internal debate, though, she decided against it and leaned forwards, kissing him again, a little less gently this time.

Finally, she was getting some. It had been a while since she'd got any, and she'd been starting to get irritated. Little things annoyed her more than they had before, and she knew exactly why that was. So far, she'd managed to keep her mind off it by staying busy, but now that she had the opportunity, she wasn't going to let it slip away. Besides, it wasn't like she was raping him or anything, and they couldn't expect every one of the kids at this school to knuckle under and do what they were told.

[morpheusbrown]

Morph smirked widely. “I hope she’s not. She looks like a stiff breeze would snap her in half, let alone doing the lifts. Not that that would altogether be a bad thing…” He glanced over at the girl. While he was sure anyone who’d actually met Jessiekins would agree with him, he didn’t want to scare her off. It didn’t seem to do any harm though. Besides, they were just sharing interests. That was how you were supposed to make friends, right?

Morph returned the kiss, grinning to himself. This. Was. Perfect. Let the dance class wait, he liked to have some variety in his exercise, and this was his favourite kind of variety. His hand made its way down the girl’s back and he wondered if he should at least make a note of her name before deciding no, that could wait. He was happy with the way this was going with no interruptions. Everyone else in class and just them… and hell hang the consequences.

Besides, what did the teachers think would happen? You lock this many teenagers with their raging hormones in a school together and refuse to let them have casual sex… things are going to happen. Accidents… at least this was consensual. Or agreed to by them both. Doctor Hudson couldn’t break his nose for it this time, unless he broke hers too. And Morph hoped that wasn’t the case. He might usually BS his way into this sort of thing, but he’d been telling a hard, cold truth when he’d said she was beautiful. Well, he hadn’t said it. He’d say it after wards, providing they didn’t get caught. After all, they weren’t exactly hidden away. Besides, the thought they might get caught made it all the more exciting. There was nothing like a pretty girl to take his mind off everything. Shame they were in such short supply in this place.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla shrugged. "I wouldn't object to that, personally." She felt his hand on her back, and moved in for another kiss, raising one hand and resting it on his cheek. This was more like it. The last time she'd even been kissed here was by Jess, while pinning her up against a wall and force-feeding her various parts of herself, and while that had it's appeal, there was something about honest, consensual sex that just beat rape every time. The kiss intensified, and Layla moved her her hand into his hair, holding his head still.

Layla wondered what would happen to them if they got caught. Isolation, most likely, but the idea didn't really bother her. Most of her mind was occupied with kissing the guy, a task it undertook with glee. This was perfection, right here: she was kissing a hot boy, they were about to have no-strings sex, it was a beautiful evening and no-one was calling her freak. Perfection. Layla shifted closer to him, closing her eyes and savoring the kiss, not knowing whether they were about to be grabbed and stopped at any moment. To be honest, that just added to the atmosphere- breaking the rules was always a bit of a turn-on, after all.

Lifting her other hand so it rested on his neck, she wondered idly what his name was. She didn't know any of the dancers, so she couldn't guess. She could always ask him later, provided they didn't get caught out here in the middle of a field and thrown into isolation, that is. That would really be a downer, especially now she was getting quite into it. Or was it 'him'? Whatever the grammatically correct version was. She wasn't too bothered about it at that particular moment in time, surprise, surprise.

[morpheusbrown]

Morph smiled again. “Girl after my own heart.” Jessica Air was annoying to say the least, even if she did look like he could break her over his knee. People who were that skinny shouldn’t mess with people who weren’t. Especially him. Come to think of it, nobody should mess with him. That was what IED meant wasn’t it? Morph smirked. Fair enough really. Since he’d wrapped his tap shoes around that kid’s head people had given him a wider berth at home. Here… here he’d need to start from scratch.

He kept kissing her, feeling her hands behind his head. He moved his hands down her body and hoped they weren’t about to get caught. If they were… he’d have to choke a bitch. And that would probably kill the mood, he was sure. Smiling he settled them both on the grass and kissed her. Turned out lessons were good for something after all. And anger. He wondered vaguely what this girl’s IED was all about and decided it didn’t matter. At all. Nothing mattered, really.

He thought she was right. She did improve the scenery. The endless fields… trees. Streams. All boring as hell without something to take his interest. And for the first time since being here he was interested. Someone had his full and undivided attention and he intended to enjoy every single second of it. Time to practise some exercises you shouldn’t try to do to Chopin. And you didn’t have to point your toes or anything. Well, not unless you really wanted to… Morph wondered how a girl managed to stay this gorgeous in a place like this. All the other girls he’d seen had been little kids, or apparently joined at the hip or so fucking annoying he wanted to make her eat her own fat. He smirked again. That insult had been one of his better ones. Even if it was entirely empty. Kissing her hard again, Morph could feel release so near he could almost taste it.

Fade to black…

[Layla Whitney]

Layla stared dreamily at the sky, resting one hand on her stomach and one above her head. The sun was setting, and it would be getting dark fairly soon. She wondered absently what would happen if someone saw them now. It was too late to do anything, but it might be a good idea to get dressed anyway. She'd do that later... No, now. Unless you really fancy getting caught lying naked in a field with a guy. It was too late for them to stop the sex, but they'd definitely get punished for it, and Layla rather liked the idea of not being in isolation for the next few weeks.

Eventually, she gave up on the idea, and stayed where she was, smiling at the sky. It had been a while since she'd felt this relaxed, and she intended to enjoy the moment, whether she got caught or not. Besides, she didn't have anything to be ashamed of. Stretching luxuriously, she turned her head to smile at the boy. Which reminded her... "So, are you going to tell me your name? I'm Layla," she wondered vaguely whether he cared. Probably not, but it was always worth getting to know people. Maybe they could get in touch again sometime.

Her thoughts began to wander, turning to the music lesson she'd had to leave. Would she get in trouble? Probably not, but you could never be certain with these people. After all, the teacher had only entered the room to see her swearing at the kid, which never looked good in any given situation. Tilting her head the other way, she stared at her guitar again. It didn't look so bad now: maybe she'd just been overreacting from the stress of not getting any in a while. The scratches, while deep, weren't very obvious, and the body of the guitar was mainly unharmed. The soundboard had got the worst of it, but after re-stringing it, it had played just fine. The kid was lucky it wasn't badly damaged.

[morpheusbrown]

Basking in that lovely glow that always occurred afterwards, Morph grinned at Layla and ran a grass stalk lightly over her bare stomach. “Morph.” He held out his hand for her to shake and chuckled. “Pleased to meet you.” Well, that had been one hell of a meeting. If anyone asked him if he’d met anyone he liked at least he’d have an answer now.

He contemplated putting his clothes back on and decided against it. AT this point he didn’t much care if he was caught, although he thought he should probably suggest Layla get dressed in a minute, if only to be a gentleman in the hope she’d sleep with him again. Sometime. Hopefully soon, unless he found someone else who wasn’t a kid or a teacher. And who was relatively fit, because lets face it, Morph thought to himself, no one wants to sleep with someone who looks like a hag. Unless you’re all into that kind of thing.

“Guess you’re in music then, beautiful Layla.” Morph stretched, smiling gently at her. She really was beautiful, he thought, grinning. After sex he never felt angry, which was a relief, otherwise he’d end up scaring off potential ‘buddies.’ He thought about the music he was supposed to have brought back to his class and smirked. Madame had probably sent someone else by now… there was more to life than battement. But dancing and sex… he could manage with that. Running the grass stalk lightly across her stomach again he grinned in her direction. “You want to put some clothes on? Getting caught isn’t looking like my favourite of all the options now… and what say we do this again? I really enjoyed our… meeting.” Morph would easily admit he was at his nicest right after a meeting like that. He felt all mellowed out… for roughly five minutes. After that he began to crave sex again. Funny what the world did to you. Reaching for the nearest piece of clothing he tried to work out a) if it was his and b) how to wear it.

[Layla Whitney]

Layla replied to his grin with one of her own, and reached out to shake his hand, laughing slightly. "Nice to meet you too, sweetie." Brushing hair out of her face, she continued to gaze at the golden sky, wondering how long they could get away with lying out here like this without getting caught. Probably not long: security would be along soon to make sure no-one was trying to run away. That was a bitch. "Mhm. And you're a dancer," she replied to Morph without looking at him. A smile danced around her lips. It wasn't often she got called beautiful: he was just saying it so she'd sleep with him again, but she appreciated it all the same. It was one of the nicer ways of getting someone in the sack, and a little flattery could be remembered later on.

He spoke again, and she smirked slightly, pushing herself upright lethargically, casting about for her clothes. She managed to get her underwear on with minimal trouble: turning to reply to Morph, she noticed him holding her jeans, and reached over and took them off him, smiling slightly. "I'd love to." Standing up to pull her jeans on, she glanced over to see her guitar lying on top of its case, and crouched down to put it away properly, handling it with utmost care. Once that was done, she picked up her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, taking a moment to smooth out her hair and brush a few stray blades of grass out of it. Then she turned her attention back to Morph, smiling at him. "Next time you want me, just let me know. I'm fairly sure I'll be able to make some time for you." With that, she straightened up.