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Trashed and Scattered

Chapter Eighty-Five: It Seems I've Been Buried Alive

Discarded plates and half-eaten extravagancies littered the room in excess. The twinkling lights of the overhead chandelier played the role of both the sun and the moon as Peyton and Jimmy entangled their lives, sheltering themselves from the realities of the world. They’d hidden away, powering their phones off from their connections—devoted entirely and endlessly on exploring every single detail of one another’s existence.
Peyton rolled off of the drummer, a distinct grin permanently etched into his features. She pulled the sheet up around her bare chest, letting her ragged breathing slow until it was nothing more than dull panting and satisfied sighs.
“I think we’re setting a world record here, Lex,” Jimmy smirked, adjusting his arm beneath her neck to pull her back into him.
She laughed, “I’m game.”
“Someone has to record that shit though, I think,” he pondered aloud, his blue eyes tracing the seamless ceiling as his fingers drew absent-minded circles along Peyton’s tattooed arm. “Otherwise it doesn’t count.”
“Mm,” Peyton hummed, nuzzling into Jimmy’s inked chest, “I don’t know that I need some man in a suit seated in the corner analyzing my sexual escapades.”
Jimmy laughed, “Fair enough.”
We’ll know,” Peyton grinned, rolling onto her stomach to rest her chin atop his breathing. “And when we die of exhaustion, everyone else will know too.”
“Imagine?” he snickered. “What a badass way that would be to go. Jimmy Sullivan, died from too much sex.”
Peyton smiled, “You’re an idiot.”
“I know,” he nodded, a playful gleam dancing along his eyes.
As wonderous and engrossing as their two-day stint locked away in his hotel room had been, the sky outside their fifth-floor window was painted in dreary reality. There were still issues to be resolved; questions to be answered. Neither party was particularly keen to dig up the bones of their lives—they were quite comfortable rotting in denial in one collective casket. They’d buried themselves alive, unnervingly comfortable beneath the soil.
Nevertheless, Jimmy took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as his thoughts swirled around the perfection hanging between them, “So…”
“No,” Peyton whined, burying her face in his chest. “Don’t so me.”
Jimmy smiled, wrapping both arms around her, “Here’s the good news…”
She dared to sneak a peak up at him through the cloak of her resistance.
“I didn’t buy a return ticket,” he grinned.
Peyton raised her brows, “That is good news…if not a bit presumptuous.”
He chuckled, “Don’t misinterpret, Lex. I was staying here until you forgave me. It wasn’t about presumptions. It was sheer power of will. Conviction of the heart, if you will. A love crusade as it were. A parade of—”
“I get it,” Peyton interrupted with a laugh.
“But I knew you’d give into my charm,” he grinned deviously. “How could you resist a serenade?”
She shook her head, “I couldn’t. There was no way.”
“Exactly as I’d planned,” he beamed. “Joanna’s a good helper, by the way.”
“She’s a schemer,” Peyton concurred. “She’s going to get an extra grandiose birthday gift this year.”
Jimmy snickered, “As she fucking should.”
“Anyway,” Peyton sighed, adjusting her weight to peer up into Jimmy’s glistening eyes. “You’re here for…”
“As long as you want me,” Jimmy shrugged.
Peyton squinted an eye, “Oo, what a loaded statement that is.”
“And I meant every single syllable.”
“Be serious though,” she instructed lightly. “You’re recording an album…You have responsibilities. How long can you stay? How long do I have?”
He bit at his lip as he mulled her questions over. There was a tactful way to go about responding, but Jimmy had never done well with delicate verbalization. He frequented the word vomit anomaly and had learned to backpedal like an expert. But when it came to the subject matter at hand, he wanted to be careful to get it just right.
“Well,” he sighed, hesitating. “What if I just…didn’t?”
“Just didn’t what?” Peyton asked confusedly.
Jimmy half-smiled, “Go back.”
Peyton’s head fell slightly to its side as her eyes narrowed and her mind whirred. Jimmy’s face was entirely ridden of jest, though. He was serious, if not a bit nervous.
“What, and just stay in New York?” she asked slowly, her brow wrinkled with confusion.
He nodded, “Stay with you.”
“You’d give up your life to be here?” Peyton clarified skeptically. “Jimmy…”
“It isn’t giving anything up,” he explained simply.
She stared at him, “It would be giving up your band, your career…your friends. Your family.”
“Those last two are interchangeable,” Jimmy smirked.
“Be serious,” Peyton sighed.
He ran his fingers along her spine, sending trickles of electricity scattering through her nerves, “I am.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Peyton argued warmly.
“You’re not asking,” he shrugged. “I’m just…putting it on the table.”
Peyton tried and failed to wrap her mind around his offer. She’d never had a man—she’d never had anyone—volunteer to uproot their life on her behalf. It was a commitment that both terrified and captivated her.
“Why would you do that?” she asked quietly.
“Why wouldn’t I do that?” he countered. “I could fly back to record…Fly in for press shit. It isn’t like I couldn’t make Avenged work from out here. And even if I couldn’t, I could do something else.”
Peyton furrowed her brows, “That’s your music, Jim. That’s your family. If you seriously think I’d let you give either of those things up for me, you’re crazier than I thought.”
“Stop saying give up,” he instructed her, a hint of irritation clinging to his vocal chords. “I’m not giving up shit. I’m gaining something…and it’s worth more to me than anything else in this world. I don’t care about the rest of it.”
Peyton sighed, “Jimmy…”
“Do you not want me to stay?” he asked, the light in his eyes snuffing itself out.
The artist smiled, crawling up his chest and planting her lips upon his, “I don’t know.”
Jimmy’s heart fell with a deafening shatter. The shards twinkled in their prismatic display of ache.
“Hey,” Peyton whispered, planting another soft kiss on his perfect lips. “Don’t you misinterpret. I know, without a doubt, that I want you.”
His smile returned with the faintest glow.
“I just haven’t worked out the semantics of that yet,” she continued softly. “But we will figure it out…I’m not losing you twice.”
“I’ll stay until we figure it out,” Jimmy decided aloud. “Or I’ll stay forever…Whatever.”
Peyton smiled, “Or maybe I’ll come back with you.”
Jimmy’s entire face lit up with the fire of a thousand suns. His grip unconsciously tightened.
“Yeah?” he asked, trying his best to hide his enthusiasm.
She shrugged slightly, “It would make the most sense…You have more to leave behind than I do…But I do have Omen to think about…”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said again, this time his tone flat and burdened.
Peyton sighed, “I don’t know what I’d do about that…”
“You could expand,” Jimmy suggested. “Open a second shop.”
“Who am I, Daddy Warbucks?” Peyton teased with a laugh. “I sank all of my savings into Omen…It’s just started turning a decent profit in the last year. And if my time spent at Jonas’ shop was any indicator, a second shop wouldn’t be fruitful for a while.”
Jimmy considered this, “Yeah, but…You didn’t really make an effort to get your name out there in California. If you tried, I know you’d be successful.”
“Maybe,” Peyton nodded, her mind whirring with contemplation. “I don’t know.”
“It would appear we’re at an impasse,” Jimmy frowned. “God damn us for having separate lives!”
Peyton chuckled quietly, “We’ll figure out how to integrate them…it’s just going to take some time.”
The only other reasonable option lingered along the tip of Jimmy’s tongue. He bit down against it, letting its bitter simplicity stain his teeth. He feared voicing it for terror of settling something into Peyton’s mind. If he could labor to keep her by his side, he knew all of his problems would quickly dissipate. He felt more at home wrapped up in Peyton’s grip than he’d ever felt before. No matter the time apart or the distance cemented between them, it was as if they’d both stood still together.
Against his better judgement, Jimmy cracked his lips apart, “We could…”
He couldn’t bring himself to the finish the thought, horror gripping at his rattling heart.
“We could…” Peyton mimicked inquisitively.
“Do…long…distance,” Jimmy managed nervously.
The brunette frowned, “We could…”
“If no other option pans out,” he sighed. “It is the most sensical.”
Peyton pulled her lips to one side, “I guess…”
“We could split time,” Jimmy rationalized. “I’d fly out here sometimes and you could fly out to me sometimes…If anyone could make it work, it’s us.”
“I don’t want to make it work,” Peyton pouted. “I want to be greedy…I want to be selfish.”
Jimmy smirked, “Me too.”
“Then how about we just…enjoy what we have right this second,” she suggested happily. “And we’ll figure out the future as we go along.”
The drummer nodded.
“Do the guys know where you are?” Peyton asked slowly. “Do they know you’ve gone wayward?”
Jimmy shrugged, “Brian’s heard rumblings of a scheme.”
Peyton gasped, a disheartened laugh escaping her, “Jimmy!”
“What?” he snickered. “It’s like that time I slithered out the bathroom window. Sometimes you just have to escape, Lex. If you volunteer information to those fucking harpies, they’ll talk sense into you. I didn’t need to be any more confused about my plan.”
“And you didn’t think you should mention to anyone that you’d be in New York for a few days?”
He shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his features.
“Text them,” she instructed. “Right now.”
“Nope,” he beamed, giving his head a proud shake.
Peyton giggled, “Jimmy. Seriously. They’re going to think you’re dead somewhere!”
“Let them,” he shrugged. “They don’t need to know my whereabouts. They can keep each other company in my absence. Someone better write me a fucking cool eulogy though.”
The brunette sighed loudly, pulling herself from the drummer’s grip. She wrapped the beige sheet around her body as she meandered over to her bag, pulling her lifeless phone from the zippered pocket. Jimmy propped himself up onto one elbow, watching with unbridled lust as the woman of his dreams stood, exuberating brilliance without trying.
“What are you doing?” he asked half-heartedly. “Get back here.”
Peyton smirked, glancing over her shoulder at the tattooed man as her phone sprang back to life, “I’m texting Brian to let him know you’re alive.”
“Oh god,” Jimmy groaned, flopping backward onto the mattress. “I’ve bored you already? You’ve gotta resort to Brian now? Listen, I’m not opposed to some kinky shit. I’m not ruling out a threesome…but could it not be with Brian? He seems like he’d be a bit of a hog…and I’m probably not going to like sharing you.”
“Would you shut up?” Peyton laughed, swiftly sliding her fingers around the keyboard.
I have your idiotic drummer. When he’s done being stubborn, I’ll get him to call and update you. He’s not dead!
Feeling as though she’d done her civic duty, Peyton promptly powered her phone off once more. She turned slowly, planting a hand on her hip as she surveyed the lanky man sprawled out along the bed. His eyes were fixated on the ceiling, his face blank of emotion.
“Jimmy?” she asked strangely, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
He slowly glanced at her from the sides of his eyes, the faintest smile forming.
“What are you doing?” she laughed.
He shook his head by way of reply.
“Are you being weird?” she smirked, slowly crossing the room.
“You told me to shut up,” he informed her, mock offence laced into his voice. “So I’ve shut up.”
Peyton grinned from ear to ear, “Can I convince you to liven up?”
“Nope,” he declared with a head shake, his arms folding themselves across his chest. “I’m a mute now…Well not now…but now.”
And with those words of eloquence, he pursed his lips together, casting a smug nod in the artist’s direction.
“But I like when you talk,” Peyton purred. “And I like when you make all sorts of other sounds too…”
Jimmy raised a curious brow at her, his defenses dwindling under her sultry voice.
“Can I coax life into your vocal chords again?” she smirked.
His eyes roamed her existence with a hunger, offering a suggestion with a silent plea.
With one fell movement, Peyton unwrapped the sheet from her chest and let the fabric fall to the floor.
“Is it working?” she asked lowly, but Jimmy maintained his silence.
She crawled into the bed, taking her time as she climbed overtop of his form. With one hand planted on each side of his head, he finally gave in.
“Fuck, I love you.”
Peyton giggled, letting the words sink deep into her soul as her arms gave in and they worked together to break the world record. She was sure, by the end of the night, they’d both be dead from exhaustion. Another nail driven into their shared coffin, the pair buried themselves away once more.

Notes

I'm back!

Pellivan!

xx

Comments

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RamonaFoREVer RamonaFoREVer
6/18/19

@fyction
It is one of my favourite things. I melt every time!!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I know! Isn’t it sweet?! Guh. Pellivan <3

fyction fyction
6/11/19

@fyction
BUT PELLIVAN IS TRUE LOVE!!!
I still get giddy when Peyton says 'I love you' to Jimmy... urgh! Such a long time coming!

kiss my sas kiss my sas
6/11/19

@kiss my sas
I mean.... Breyton could be revived... never say never ;)

fyction fyction
6/11/19