The door opened slightly, and a tall, thin figure slipped into the building, closing the door softly behind him. He spotted his friend, Mark, waving at him. He huffed, and turned his back on his bastard 'friend'. He'd been dared to go into the club, and had gone along with it for fear he'd get beaten up...again. He lowered his eyes, and pulled his hood lower over his face. He pulled his hands back into his sleeves, and made his way through the crowd, avoiding any and all eye contact. A few kids from school that knew him shouted cruel words at him, but he shrugged it off. He was used to it. He found an empty booth, sat in the corner, huddling as far into it as he could.


He tried to shrink as much as possible, to make himself invisible. Fearful eyes darted from person to person, studying them, before his gaze dropped to his lap. He drew in a shaky breath, and sighed. He drew up his knees, and wrapped his arms around them, curling up. He said his forehead on his knees, further hiding his face from those whose were staring. Tears of shame threatened to spills from his eyes. He was so ugly. No wonder they stared at him, hated him. He shuddered, and continued beating himself up over how worthless he was. How no one loved him, and how he was unwanted by everyone. He pondered over going into the bathroom to force himself to vomit up the dinner he'd eaten earlier, but figured there'd be couples making out, and cast away the idea.


A man walked up to him, and asked him if he wanted anything. When he didn't respond, the man poked at him, insisting that he give him an answer. The boy looked up, and pulled a pen from the pocket of his skinnies. He pulled his sleeve back, ignoring the stares his scars recieved. Dangling from a bracelet, was a a tiny notebook. He quickly wrote something, and handed the piece of paper the the man who looked at him. confused. When he motioned for him to read it, he stared at the paper. He crumpled it up, and nodded, before walking away to serve other customers. Xander placed his forehead back on his knees, returning to his thoughts of worthlessness.

Jace walked boldly into Love Handle. He had heard about it on his way through town and decided to stop by. He came through the door just in time to hear a couple of rather hash names being shouted at someone and frowned when a tall, thin figure caught his attention as it headed away from the shouts to sit at a booth off in a far corner. Jace thought for a moment before striding over and sliding into the other side of the booth as if he had been planning on meeting the boy there. He pushed his straight black hair out of his bright cobalt blue eyes and smiled at the boy. His teeth looking even whiter due to his tan face. "Friends of yours?" he asked lightheartedly with a slight gesture in the direction of the rather rude antagonists.

Xander was pulled from his thoughts as he hueard someone settle into the seat across from him. Ignoring the stranger, he curled deeper into himself, wishing he would disappear. His efforts, however, were futile. As the other spoke, he jumped, and looked up and across the table. He looked at the strange boy with startled, frightened eyes. He pressed himself back into the seat, and blinked. He his his lower face with his arms, His bangs covering one eye. He twisted his hands in his sleeves as he stared at the boy, remaining completely silent. When the stranger's question finally registered, his flicked his gaze to the boys who were still picking on him, then back to the other.


He stared for another moment, before hiding himself again, burying his face in his arms. He wasn't sure how to react. No one had ever spoken to him, unless it was his over-protective parents, or someone was going to insult him. His lifted his face slightly, where his could see a dark bruise on his knees through the rip in his skinny jeans. He sighed, and stuffed his face back into his arms. He had received the injury from being kicked a few times after school. He'd been jumped by the football team, and attacked while everyone watched. And laughed. He shuddered, and had to once again keep himself from crying. He only did it when he was shut away in his room, where no one could see him even weaker than usual.


He held back the tears, and again thought about retreating to the bathroom. Once again, he rejected the thought. He could always wait until he was home before. Then he wouldn't be fat anymore. He sniffed, and peeked curiously at the stranger. He studied him for a second, before turning his head back into his hoodie. The boy seemed a bit outgoing, and it made Xander even more nervous. Those where the kind of people that scared him the most. They were often the ones that were the meanest to him. The ones who weren't afraid to beat the shit out of him, to call him queer, and a freak. He shoved his head deeper into his arms, once again lost in his thoughts.

Jace watched curiously as the boy finally looked up and glanced at the other boys before hiding his face again. He couldn't understand why he kept trying to hide his face from view. He glanced at the boys again and frowned. He very much disliked people who picked on others for any kind of differences. He narrowed his eyes and without a second thought flipped them the bird before turning his attention back to the boy in front of him. His eyes softened and he reached across the table to gently move his hand under the boy's chin to lift his face towards him. "Why do you hide little raven?" Jace asked softly.

Xander was once again ripped from his thoughts. He jerked away when the other boy touched him, and smushed himself as far as he possibly could against the back of the booth. He peered at the other from behind his bangs, the fear in his eyes growing more intense. The only time others touched him was to hurt him. Why this stranger hadn't. He pulled his knees in closer, and stared. He sniffed, and blinked once. Twice. He remained silent, though his eyes were expressive. They weren't filling with only fear. There was also confusion, and slight curiosity. He knotted his sleeves in his hands, and looked down, unable to answer. Not only because he was scared enough to piss his pants, but because he physically wasn't able to.


He forced himself to not think about the torture he endured that had caused his vocal chords to be permanently damaged. He looked back at the boy. He would've buried his face into his comforting hoodie, but he probably wouldn't be allowed to do so again. His gaze returned to his knees, where he stared at the bruise, before once again turning his attention to the stranger. Who called him a little raven. The boy's gaze was soft, but Xander still couldn't bring himself to try and trust him. His fear of others was too strong. So strong, in fact, it had consumed him. He blinked again, and stared at the boy through his bangs.


He felt himself reaching for his pen, but quickly withdrew his hand from his pocket, and folded it back across the other. He rested his chin on his knees, so his mouth and nose where hidden by his arms. One of his hands had come slightly from his sleeve, revealing thin fingers that were pale, almost white. He noticed, and quickly pulled his hand back it. He felt exposed with even his fingers showing. His face was more exposed than normal, since his hood was beginning to fall back due to the movement of his head. He ignored this, however, not wanting to make any major movements that may leave him even more vulnerable.

Jace frowned slightly when the boy jerked back letting his hand rest outstretched on the table with his palm up. "What's wrong little raven? You have no reason to fear me. I won't harm you." he said gently. He followed the boy's line of vision to his knee and spotted the bruise. A sudden surge of anger and protectiveness filled him at the sight. It wasn't a bruise that you get from tripping and falling. "Who hurt you?" he asked, more sharply than he had intended.

Xander relaxed slightly when the other remained kind. He loosened the grip on his knees slightly, uncurling a little. He began reaching for his pen once more, when he saw the look of anger flash across the kind boy's face. He tensed, and once again tightened the grip on his knees, and stared fearfully at the stranger. He inhaled quickly, and it sounded like he'd gasped. When the boy asked who had given the bruise to him, he gave the slightest of shrugs. The other's voice sounded fierce, and Xander drew more into himself, curling into an even tighter ball. He glanced out the window, and saw Mark laughing at him through the window. He huffed, and turned his head to look at the boy's expression.


His eyes didn't focus, and he felt scared, and trapped. He sniffed, and puled his arms protectively around his face, for fear of being touched again. He glanced at the hand laying at the table. That hand could move at any second and harm him. He stared at it, before once again placing his head in his arms, protecting his face from the pain that was sure to come. He peeped out at the stranger, keeping an eye on him. His one eye couldn't be seen by his bangs, and the rest of his face was hidden by his arms. He studied him again. He wasn't bad looking. Not at all. In fact, Xander found him quite attractive. He sighed. He couldn't think about things like that right now. He had to focused his attention on the hand. The hand that was in no way threatening, but scary at the same time.


He wanted to reach out, to push it away to where it couldn't hurt him, but he was afraid of getting a negative reaction. He pulled his hands deeper into his sleeves, and twisted his hands in the fabric. It occupied them, and kept them from reaching where there was danger. He continued to look from the hand, to the boy, trying to figure out when the stranger would get it over with and hit him.

(Yeah. Poor Xander's got issues T3T *huggles him*)

Jace looked up at the boy when he heard him gasp. He frowned, but quickly realized what had happened. He pulled his hand back to his side of the table and his gaze softened. "I'm sorry little raven. I'm not mad at you. You don't need to worry. I'm only angry that someone would hurt you." he tried to explain, keeping his voice low and gently as if he were speaking to a frightened animal. He watched as the boy curled into himself again and looked at him in slight concern. "Why are you so frightened? Am I threatening to you? Does this place make you feel like this? Would you like to go somewhere else? Maybe outside?" he asked.

Xander looked up as the boy apologized. No one had ever said that they were sorry to him before. His had lost some of fear in them, replaced by more curiosity. He glanced at the table, and noticed the the boy had moved his hand. As the boy's explanation was continued, his gaze held an element of surprise. No one had ever been angry that people hurt him. They more often than not found it hilarious. He stared through his bangs, trying to figure out if this was all an act. The gentleness of the stranger seemed genuine, but Xander had learned to not trust anyone. As he was asked more questions, he shrunk back slightly. The fear returned when he was asked if he wanted to go somewhere else. To go outside. He shook his head, and looked at the stranger with wide eyes. Outside was bad. Outside was where he got hurt.


His hands had once again escaped from ther warm, soft prison, and were shaking violently as they clutched at his knees. He glanced at the window again, where Mark was glaring at him. He motioned for Xander to come back out, but was given no response. After a minute, he looked angry, and this cause Xander to shrink back a little. Why was his 'friend' always so angry at him? He watched as Mark gave up, and walked down the sidewalk. Well, there went his ride home. He turned his attention to his hands, and realized they were no longer hidden safely away in his hoodie. The shaking was still visible through the fabric, and so he clutched the cloth tightly to hide the fact that the were.



He looked back at the boy, and turned slightly so he was facing him a little more. He pushed his hood back, revealing short, black hair that was spiked in the back. His bangs, which were usually visible, now hung an inch below his chin. He suddenly felt very exposed, and he was even more frightened. He pulled at his hoodie, but found it had turned inside out, making it impossible to pull it back over his head. Not wanting to risk moving his other arm, he gave up and returned his arm to it's normal spot on top of the other.

Jace continued to watch the other boy's body language, frowning at his reaction to his comment about going outside. He followed his gaze out the window and spotted another boy walk down the sidewalk. "A friend of yours?" he asked. He watched him push his hood back and smiled softly. "Please don't try to hide little raven. Beauty shouldn't be tucked away in some corner to tremble in the shadows." he told him gently.

Xander wasn't sure how to reply when the boy asked if Mark was a friend, so he just shrugged. He looked warily at the smile. It wasn't cruel, or intimidating. It was...gentle. He unfurled a little, loosening the grip one his knees. He stared at the boy with round eyes. What beauty? He unclenched his hands, and looked down at the slim, bony fingers. Nothing about him was beautiful. He lowered his hands, and instead of wrapping his arms around his legs, he hugged himself around the stomach. He continued to stare curiously at the one who'd taken interest in him. It was strange, and sort of interesting. But he didn't let it show.


He reached into his pocket, and produced a pen. After placing it on the table, he slowly pulled back his sleeve, revealing thin white scars crisscrossing his wrist. He pulled it up farhter, showing more scars, until he found the little hidden notebook attached to the bracelet. He unclipped it, and held it against his knee. Picking up the pen, he quickly scribbled something in his rather pretty handwriting. He set the pen back down, and tore the tiny page from the binding. He slid it across the table to the boy. What is your name? It read.


He stared across the table expectantly. He figured he owed the kind person a better response than a shake of his head, or a shrug of his shoulders. He glanced down at the pen, and quickly dragged it off the table, suddenly afraid it would be picked up and used to hurt him. He still wasn't completely sure that the boy wouldn't cause him harm. He held the length of plastic in his hands, and tightened his grip on it in a nervous fashion. He stared at it for a moment, before looking back the the boy.

Jace's smile grew as he watched the boy relax a little. He waited patiently as the boy pulled out a pen and wrote something. The scars on his arms catching his eye and filling him with worry that he didn't quite understand. He was about to reach for the paper, but paused as the boy snatched the pen back. "I won't hurt you little raven." he told him again. He picked up the paper and for a moment lifting an eyebrow before a soft smile crossed his face. "My name is Jace." he told him.

Xander stared blankly at the boy for a moment, before the expression returned to his face. The fear lessened slightly, but he still wasn't sure he believed 'Jace's' reassurances. He twisted the pen in his fingers, before reaching across the table and snatching the small page from Jace's fingers, to save paper. He flipped it over, and scribbled something else, once again sliding it across the table. He looked down, wondering if giving him that bit of information had been a good idea. He dropped the pen onto his stomach, and began ringing his hands in his sleeves again. He glanced at the boy worriedly, and looked back down at his knees.


He wanted to push away his conflicted thoughts, to just leave his mind blank. But he found it impossible. He also found he wanted to trust Jace, to get closer to him. But he couldn't make his fear of everyone go away. He sniffed, and scrunched his legs back into his chest, wincing as the pen dug into his tummy. He reached down and pulled it away from his stomach. He set it carefully on the table, keeping a close eye on it as her wrapped his arms once again around his knees.


His eyes wandered back to the slip of paper. It was the first step to trusting Jace. He pulled at his sleeves nervously, and his eyes darted quickly around the club. A few were staring with amusement at the boy who was trying to be nice to the little freaky queer boy.. He shrunk back as they glared when they noticed him looking at them. He looked down quickly, the fear returning to his eyes. What if they cam over and hurt him? Would they dare? His gaze rested one last time one the paper, before lowering his gaze to his pen. He thought about the information he'd given away freely. My name is Xander. Was the sentence written on the note.

Jace watched him write something else and once the paper was slid back to his side of the table he grabbed it and looked at it. A bright smile flooding his face. "It's nice to meet you Xander. I wish my name could have been that unique." he told him. He saw the fear in the boy's eyes and quickly scanned the room. His gaze stopped on the people glaring at Xander. He glared at them and without a moments hesitation flipped them off. He didn't think confronting them now would be a good idea with his little raven shrinking away in fear.

Xander continued to look down at his knees. He looked back over at Jace. He widened his eyes in surprise as he flipped off the guys who were glaring. His eyes twinkled lightly as he stared at him in wonder. No one had protected him in any sort of way. He'd heard Jace's response to his latest little note, but was too interested in the boy's standing up for him. He finally decided to reply. He picked up his notebook and pen, and began to write. He ripped the paper from his precious little notebook, and handed it over, setting in gently on Jace's side of the table. He looked at him shyly, his eyes now hidden behind his bangs. He stared at him expectantly, not sure of how the boy was going to react. He relaxed slightly, but was still tensed. His breath shuddered, and it surprised him a little.


Looking down at his covered hands, he noticed that they were still shaking, but not quite as badly as before. He gripped his knees in a failed attempt to stop them. Why was he such a coward? He huffed, getting slightly angry at himself. Why couldn't he d oanything even slightly right? He bit his lower lip gently, as he was dragged into his thoughts again. After a minute, he looked back over at Jace, and then the note. Why would you say that? Your name is very unique. I've never heard anyone by that name before. Except maybe in a book.(*fangirl squeal*) He had written in his beautiful script.

Jace read the note and grinned at Xander. "Thank you, but it just seems plain to me." he said with a shrug, turning his back to the other people. He brushed the hair out of his face and reread the note. "So you like to read?" he asked.

Xander shrugged at Jace's first statement. He'd tried. When Jace spoke again, he nodded in response to his question. What else was he supposed to do? He had no electronics, and he couldn't exactly just lay on his bed sniveling all the time. So he filled his time with reading. Most of his shelves were filled with horror and supernatural books. There were also a few sci-fy type books scattered around, but He barely ever touched them. He fiddled with his pen, staring at the company logo. He exhaled a bit loudly, and it made him jump a bit, since he wasn't expecting it.


Someone walked by, and Xander immediately curled back up and hid his face in his arms. He wasn't sure if the stranger had moved on or not, and so he kept himself hidden from the possible danger. He peeked out, and saw that the person had left, but continued to him, in case they decided to come back and make fun of him. He shook as he thought of the torment that was soon to come. Maybe they would come and jokes about his being gay, or about how how he was fat, even though he was underweight. He sighed, and his breath shook. He peeped back out again, and this time, turned his attention back to Jace, staring at him through his bangs once more.

Jace was about to comment on his common enjoyment he found in books, when the stranger passed by. He frowned as he saw Xander hide himself. "Can you tell me why you hide yourself from people?" he asked gently. "You are adorably cute. A little more meat on your bones wouldn't hurt, but that doesn't bother me. You're the cutest guy I've seen in this town." he told him with a grin.

Xander stared at him, wide-eyed, hid bangs hanging over his face so it was still hidden as he lifted his head. He reached slowly for his pen and little notebook, and began to write. He scribbled down something quickly, and then decided to just had over the notebook. It was easier than ripping out all it's pages. He dropped it on the table, and slid his hand back, letting in fall onto his stomach. He wasn't quite sure how Jace would take the note, a bit frightened because last ime he'd gotten made. He stared warily at the note, which read: Because they hurt me.


Xander's eyes widened slightly when the rest of Jace's sentence finally sunk in. He though he was cute? He shook his head deftly, disagreeing with him. It wasn't true. He was lying. He shifted nervously, and gave a little, frightened huff as another stranger walked by. He turned his gaze back to Jace. He didn't want to look at the scary people, but it was hard for him not to. He was used to watched warily, in case someone decided to come up and harm him for th fact that he was different. He looked down at the pen again, twisting it in his sleeve enveloped hands.

Jace looked at the note and a wave of sadness and anger rolled through him. He glanced up at Xander and his eyes softened when he saw him shake his head. "To me you are adorable. Like a little pet raven you want to keep all to yourself and never ever share." he told the boy. "Why people hurt things out of spite and because of differences I'll never understand." he muttered with a glare in the direction of the people who had been looking at Xander.

(So many typos >< I keep re-reading my posts, and see all them and want to pound in the keyboard xD. *has slight OCD*)


Xander Saw the emotion in Jace's eyes, and felt bad. He hadn't wanted to make him feel sad, or angry. He continued twisting the pen, clutching it so tightly his knuckles were white...er. He slowly reached for the notebook, and pulled it across the table by the clip that attached it to the bracelet. He slowly reached a hand to his face, and pulled back one side of his bangs, revealing one of his eyes. They were surrounded in thick eyeliner, and the irises were coal black. If He took out his contacts, his eyes would be a deep brown, that his mother and other family members commented on as being beautiful. When they ever got the rare chance to see him. He let the other side of his bangs hang in his face, not wanting to feel even more exposed.


He pulled picked up the notebook, and pulled the pen from his sleeve. He bent over the notebook, and thought for a moment, trying to process what Jace had said. He finally began writing, but didn't hand over the notebook just yet. He was still trying to make sense of everything. Why was Jace being so nice to him? Why didn't he leave him to wallow in his self hatred, or pick on him? He'd already kind of explained it, but it still confused Xander. He then held out the notebook, holding his hand over the table as he offered the little note to the boy. His note was simple. Why are you so nice?

Jace's eyes brightened when Xander moved some of the hair out of his face. He noticed the edge of a contact and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Before he could voice his question he was distracted when the boy started writing again. He looked down at what he had written and frowned. "For the same reason those other people are so rude and cruel. A choice. I choose to be who I am and how I act. I don't let other people tell me who I am or am not." he told him softly.

Xander noticed Jace joy when he moved his hair from his face. He gave a shrug, and took the notebook back after the boy finished reading it. He got a worried look when Jace frowned, and he curled up a little again. Did what he wrote make him mad? Then, he spoke, and Xander relaxed again, as the boy's voice was soft. He sighed, and cast glances at the dancing crowd. He hadn't made sure he wasn't in danger for a while, and decided it would be a good idea to do so. He looked down when someone caught his glance, and her turned his head back to Jace.


He took a minute to think over Jace's response to his question. He raised his pen, and began writing once again. He wished he could be strong, like Jace, and stand up to those who picked on him. Sure, he liked being different, but it caused him so much pain. Especially since. No. He shook his head. He wasn't going to let the memories come back. He huffed quietly, setting the pen onto the table. He slowly slid across the table. It was getting rather annoying, writing notes, but it was his only way of communicating other than nodding and shaking his head. He pulled his hand back, and stared expectantly at Jace. He'd only written one words. Thanks.

Jace looked down at the notebook and smiled. "Not a problem my dear little raven." he told him happily. He looked at the notebook again and then up at Xander. "Can you tell me why you write notes?" he asked.

Xander felt heat spread across his face. He panicked slightly, and covered his face with his hands. He wasn't exactly sure how to react to Jace's niceness. He smiled under the cover of his hands, grateful that it couldn't be seen. It made him even uglier. He sighed, and his normal frown returned. He removed his hands, and reached for the notebook. He didn't move to pick up his pen just yet. He was still trying to figure out what made Jace be so nice to him. He'd already explained himself, but Xander found it hard to believe. He sighed, and leaned forward. He glanced up at Jace's question. He frowned. That was the first time someone had ever asked him that question.


Xander huffed, and thought about how to answer. He wasn't sure how he should explain it, since he didn't want to make Jace angry again, even if it wasn't at him. He finally bent over the notebook, and poised his pen over the paper. He sighed, and began to write, his perfect cursive wavering slightly as his hand began shaking again. He stopped writing, and took a breath to compose himself before continuing. He pushed the notebook back across the table slowly. He sniffed lightly, and twisted his shirt. He looked down at the table, wondering if he'd worded it right. Because it hurts to talk. My vocal chords are damaged badly from... He'd stopped writing, not wanting to continue for fear of the memories rushing back at him and causing him to cry.

(God, people are SO annoying >:I)