THIS IS MY SANCTUARY -- LEN

[braeden ryan baker]

There were very few things that Braeden took pleasure in. He had always been picky with what made him happy so it’s not as if the events of his life had any impact on that. Having always looked at the world with very critical eyes, he stayed away from reckless activities, immoral ones and leaned towards whatever he deemed to be respectable. So naturally, this left him with very few options including reading, writing, and going to the movies. He enjoyed things that were old fashioned, outdated, and antiquated but they seemed to be scarce these days. His library was extensive but he was running low on reading material and desperately felt the need to buy something new. Almost everything he earned went to food and bills for the house but he felt as if he deserved something; a prize. A book no more than $6.50 was enough to suffice as a reward even though he’d probably finish it within two days. It was a wonder when he actually slept since he worked or attended class all day and then when he came home at night he stayed up until all hours reading, getting lost in the stories he read. The books helped him forget his hardships but reminded him how desperately he wanted to live in a dated book. He wanted to talk however he wanted to without receiving strange looks and he wanted someone to share his same ideologies. The chances of this were very slim but there was something that told him to hold on a little longer and not give up completely on whatever it was he was hoping for.

The day began like any other, early. He was an early riser and liked to get out of the house quickly before any drama ensued. If he was lucky, his father would be hung over from the night before and would sleep well into the afternoon. Alexandria would still be sleeping as well and as much as he loved his sister, her whorish lifestyle was putting a strain on their relationship. He couldn’t believe she was becoming one of those girls he hated so enthusiastically. It didn’t make any sense; she had grown up the same way and until recently was just as straight and narrow as he was. What changed that within her, he didn’t know but he was too exhausted to pry enough to find out. Braeden was a strong person but he couldn’t handle setting her problems on his shoulders along with Len’s and his own.

The bookstore was across town and he was grateful for the quiet drive. It allowed him some time to think properly. He didn’t completely remember what he said to Len last night as he was feeling a bit under the weather and that couldn’t be helped. The only thing was he hoped that he hadn’t said anything too cruel to her. He pulled into the parking lot and found his way inside the store. The euphoric high he received whenever he stepped into a bookstore or library never ceased to surprise him. The giddiness he felt was comparable to a child in a candy store Books upon books piled high in shelves. If only his life would be long enough to read at least a third of these. It was the best feeling in the world, better than sex, better than love, or any other action or feeling imaginable. He went straight to the classic literature section, there weren’t any other options in his mind. He didn’t care about snooki’s life or a biography on some comedian he’s never heard before. He liked to stick to what he knew rather than read some other stupid book on a talk show host’s best seller list. Braeden didn’t care, he loved his Jane Austen and Emily Bronte and no modern book was going to change that. Looking through the shelves, he scanned the familiar names, not sure what he was in the mood for. Occasionally, selecting a title and looking over the pages and putting it in its proper place. Oh the choices. He could be here all day trying to decide. It was as if he were in a safe harbor… nothing bad could happen to him here for it was his sanctuary.

[marlene helen hamilton]

Hectic would have been a good term to describe her life over the previous few days; between events, parties, hungovers she had barely had the time to breath. Keeping herself busy had helped not thinking about him; the fact she was following his own advice on how to get over the heartbreak he caused in the first place made her cringe a bit, but pushing that thought to the back of her mind usually helped. Therefore, Marlene had had the perception she was healing, for how slowly that was happening, thus going back to her old habits and loves could have possibly been a good idea; this, in a nutshell, was the reason why she found herself in that pretty bookstore in the Hamptons. Upon walking in, she had realized immediately how small it was; nearly painfully so, considering she was used to a huge one at Oxford. Right then Marlene had a vague perception her tactic was wrong, but she decided to ignore that first warning sign and go on exploring the place. After all, what could possibly happen in a bookstore? She usually loved places like these; always, they had given her a feeling of warmth and familiarity, as though she was at home, when in fact she had hardly ever been capable of calling a place like that. Moving every few months due to her father's job wasn't easy; often times, she had ended up feeling rootless, but being surrounded by books usually managed to erase that feeling; maybe it could be part of the reason why she had decided to study Literature in college.

Looking around, she spotted a few sections that held no interest to her whatsoever, along with a couple more appealing sounding ones, such as the culinary and the visual arts one; regardless, the brunette headed straight for the classics, planning to take a look at the other two later on. Her fingers were now grazing the back of the books she had loved in her youth; she had been an avid reader since age six, because her mother always gave her books she had been given when she was young. Encouraged by that, the girl had devoured book after book, mostly to try and take the loneliness away from her soul; odd to say, Len felt incredibly alone for most of her life. Forced to change house, habits, countries and languages year after year, she ended up having nearly no friend of her own; sure, she did talk to kids her age, but there was never enough time to actually bond with anyone. The few times she had tried, it ended up turning into a painful mess when she had had to leave, so she quickly learnt to be on her own, with a book as her best mate. Until her college experience, at least; at Oxford, Len had the chance and stability to meet people she liked, who shared her interests and actually spoken her language too. Of course, the most important of them had left her more of a pitiful mess than any juvenile broken friendship ever could. Damn him, damn her and damn everything that reminded her about the two of them together; if she could have had it her way, she'd have burnt and destroyed each and every of those things, though then there would probably be nearly anything left in the world. As she was so deep in such cheerful thoughts, she bumped into someone's back; turning around quickly to apologize, she glanced at it and couldn't help but notice it was a hot back. "I'm sorry, I...Brey?" Her brows furrowed, finally recognizing the two days deal guy nearly punched by Travvy on her account. "You should be in bed, not up so early, out and about."

[braeden ryan baker]

Braeden’s childhood had been pleasant; he couldn’t remember a time that was too unhappy or too depressing. He judged that it was a pretty average one, mother, father, sister, and cat living in a two story middle class house. It wasn’t the same house he lived in now, and he missed Virginia immensely but that couldn’t be helped. That house now belonged to another family and he lived in a small single level house, with walls much too thin. The sobbing of his sister was much too loud and kept him awake at night as did her desperate cries to lend her money. He kept reminding himself that his patience with his family will be rewarded someday and he would be free to live on his own and officially start his life; perhaps have a family of his own one day. Right now, it felt like he was living in purgatory… stuck not fully grown up but teetering on the edge of being selfish and getting an apartment for himself and let their home go into foreclosure. It was what any decent person would do but he was too much of a pushover for that to happen. He was an enabler and made up excuses for them even though he really shouldn’t. Brey would have his breaking point soon; he just didn’t have a reason to break right now. Why leave without a reason?

In the bookstore, he would be safe. Safe from people wanting to punch him, judge him, or use him. He’d be hidden away from society’s cruelness if it was for but a few hours. At least it would keep him sane for now. Later, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he would go sleep in his car again or something just to get away. His careful eyes read each title, coming across a few unknowns and very familiars. Within a couple of minutes, he had found something that piqued his interest. It was something by way of Henry James and upon reading the back summary, he approved. It was then that he felt a rather small bump upon his backside. He turned around, an eyebrow raised to the stranger expecting to hear some apology. It took him a minute to realize who was talking to him as he hadn’t expected to see anyone he knew or knew his name. Once he realized that it was Len, he groaned on the inside. He really didn’t have much strength today and he didn’t want to make himself feel worse by upsetting her, which is what he seemed to do every time they met. Oh, he looked down at his book for a second before looking back at her as if ashamed for disobeying the rules of being sick. I know, I just didn’t want to be home anymore. I don’t want to be there on a regular day, so when I’m under the weather, it’s impossible. He shrugged absent mindedly, trying to figure out why they kept running into each other. Was it fate or was she just stalking him? What brings you out today? Looking for something to make you swoon? Being a big fan of romance himself, he knew exactly what it was like to feel something when reading a book. How are things with your friend if you don’t mind me asking? He remembered the other day perfectly death threats and all. It was a good day since Len had opened up a little bit…. Used him as a pillow. But as always he had said something stupid one way or another.

He kept it casual yet distant. Brey didn’t want to get involved in something that was none of his business. He decided to spare her from his silly thoughts and opinions since they were becoming difficult to form right now. Besides, Len only heard what she wanted to hear. Her ways were set in stone and nothing he could say would change it, so why try?

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[marlene helen hamilton]

The previous night conversation had been odd: he had been all over the place, sounding really weird and off, almost giving out bits and pieces of the secret that hurt him. Well, his girlfriend's death wasn't exactly that much of a mistery to her, since he had spilled it out when they were at the rave, but she assumed Braeden wouldn't go out and just tell everyone about it; true, he had told her, a girl he barely knew, on the second time they had met, but she was fairly sure alcohol had helped loosening him up, plus she wasn't really like everyone else to him, was she? Blinking her eyes at her own trail of thought, the girl shook her head briefly and told herself that yes, she was just another girl to him like to everybody else; thinking otherwise was not an option. "Oh. I see." Averting her eyes, the brunette realized she had probably just touched a nerve; raising her brows at her incredible tact, timing and discretion, she tried to think of a way to change the subject without being too obvious. Unfortunately, it felt as though she had used up all her conversational skills at the Russian Tea Room and now her mind came up blank; luckily, though, he asked her another question himself, so she could let out a brief sigh of relief and simply go on answering it.

"No. I can't really read about love, not...anymore." Truth was, every love story reminded her of her own: if they were sad and tragic for how similar they were, if there happened to have a happy ending it only succeded in either saddening her more or angering her. Why couldn't Alex and her have been as lucky as the characters of that movie or this book? No, romance was a pandora box it was best not to open around her, at all. "I'm here because I want to see if it works still." Realizing she was being criptic as she looked around, the brunette smiled slightly; at least it would have hopefully kept him interested."It used to make me feel like at home, being around books; ones I didn't have to study, that is." Truly, textbooks had never been her favourite thing in the world; she liked for them to be small as much as she loved for the books she chose to read herself to be long. "Travis? I tried talking to him, called him, but I don't think there's much I can do. He's hurt that he only gets stupid girls who only want sex and alcohol, but with his lifestyle it's hard to meet any other kind; a snake biting its tail, pretty much." Without really knowing why, she found herself talking about her friend's issue, which he surely wouldn't have appreciated; thus stopping herself, she took another look around, trying to find something else to say. "Did you find anything interesting?"

[braeden ryan baker]

His secret about Rosie wasn’t that much of a secret to his family but it was something he kept hidden from the rest of the world. If they knew he was driving the car when the two got hit, it would change people’s minds about him. They would look down upon him for not being able to save her even though he pulled her from the wreckage himself. He tried the best he could to save her with all of the life saving skills he had learned over the years. Brey never gave up and kept trying until help arrived but he still wasn’t good enough. It was a shame he wasn’t a superhero and he wasn’t any more exceptional than anyone else. He was average. Braeden understood that some things weren’t meant to be but he didn’t think that Rosie was one of those things… it couldn’t be, he loved her even if his feelings weren’t reciprocated. The other night when it slipped from his lips so effortlessly, he supposed that he had to tell someone to try and get some reassurance it wasn’t his fault. The guilt was crushing him and he couldn’t tell how much longer he would be able to stand it. He had tested the waters with Len because he figured she’d be the most understanding of them all. She didn’t seem very interested and avoided the subject perhaps to not get involved or not to make him upset. Brey wasn’t stupid; he understood a subtle hint when he noticed one. Truth was, he needed extensive therapy to relieve his conscious but he simply couldn’t afford it and so he had to find his own way of getting over it.

Brey nodded once she said she couldn’t read about love anymore. He sort of understood why since she had been jaded about the subject every time they spoke of it. His eyes narrowed, trying to figure out the meaning of her next sentence. Oh, well I hope you find that feeling here. It was the same for Brey but he wasn’t as enthusiastic as he had been in days past. Brey didn’t want to seem too clingy or attached to her even though he’d like to see her more often. It was a crossroads. He listened intently about the status of Travis but made no comment at first. It wasn’t his place to say anything behind their backs so he kept quiet. Remembering he was holding a book, he looked down at it. Oh yes, Henry James. I hope this one is as good as Portrait of a Lady. He shrugged and nodded to himself. Have a good day, Len. Brey was inadequate for her anyway. I hope everything works out for you.

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[marlene helen hamilton]

It wasn't working well at all; their being in the classic section made it easy for her to spot Shakespeare's plays, which made it even easier for painful memories to resurface. Given the fact Alexander studied Literature as well, they had often talked about books and characters, specifically comparing their relationship to the ones portrayed by the bard in his words: they had come to the conclusion that Romeo and Juliet were way overrated and mostly just young, reckless and infatuated with one another, stating the two of them were thus more similar to Hamlet and Ophelia, with their strained yet deep connection. After all, their story hadn't had much happier an ending; in a true Ophelia fashion, she was ending up drowned in pain and losing her mind in the process. "No." The brunette whispered, mostly to herself, though letting him know her wish of finding her old self there wasn't going to be granted as well; if anything, that place was making her feel worse. Suddenly, it felt as though the air was being pulled from her lungs and she found herself having troubles breathing properly; nodding slowly to herself, she faced away from him, turning around as she pushed her coat to the side and undid the first couple of buttons of her shirt, hoping those silly measures would have helped making her feel better. Of course, Len knew better; the restleness, the feeling of being caged and suffocating, the terror she felt were rooted much too deeply inside herself for an unbuttoned shirt to help; still, she had to persuade herself it was nothing, none of it. Small episodes like this one had already happened a couple of times to her; dully trying to grasp what was happening to her, she had thought they could be mild panic attacks due to hyperventilation, but had never investigated further, part of her not wanting to know.

Anyway, they went away as quickly as they came, as a rule of thumb; this time was no different. Inhaling deeply, rythmically for a few seconds as she leaned against one of the shelves, the brunette managed to quickly regain control over herself, realizing that thankfully Braeden hadn't noticed anything. His usually keen perfecptions were maybe clouded by his ill health; as a matter of fact, he did sound extremely off that morning too, though in a different way from the night before. His replies were cold and detached, very unlike him, at least for the few times she had seen him before; again, he was probably sick an just not in the mood to chat with her, which surely wasn't a crime. "Henry James, I need to read more from him." She whispered, letting out the first general reply her mind could come up with, still shaken by her episode of whatever that had been; her eyes glancing up at him, the girl felt herself nodding as he wished her a good day. It was like she had thought, he was in no mood to talk; probably, she had annoyed him by talking to him during his trip to find something to read, maybe he was busy. Everyone always was; everyone always left, it was nothing new nor a big deal. "Are you just feeling unwell or are you annoyed with me for the other day?"ì/b] The fact this question had found its way on her lips confused her, since she hadn't realized she was even going to ask him anything else in the first place; she let everyone go, after Alex, like she had done with Travis a few days before. Well, apparently not.

[braeden ryan baker]

Braeden, fortunately, had not noticed Len’s panic attack. If he had, he would have come to her rescue, place a comforting arm around her shoulders. He would have tried to steady her breathing and make her feel at home in his arms just as he had done the other day. Brey would have offered her unlimited use of his pillow-like body and offered to buy her something made entirely of chocolate because he heard that chocolate cures all pain. It must have been something to do with women because he didn’t really understand it. Len wasn’t a typical woman though so he wasn’t sure if chocolate would work for her or not. Could she be immune to chocolate? Perhaps. However, since he was off his normal thought process, he couldn’t really focus on her right now and her panic attack. It hurt to physically move his eyes now and his head was beginning to ache. It seemed as if it was getting worse the longer he was out and about instead of lying in bed at home resting. It was where he should be right now but he couldn’t make his feet move. It was the strangest sensation and as he tried to understand what was coming down on him physically, he felt very cold chills roll through his body under his skin. A masculine hand rubbed his face, trying to shake whatever it was coming over him.

He nodded, barely hearing her words of Henry James. The man was a fantastic author but he couldn’t bring himself to actually speak those words. As he was about to leave, she spoke again, posing a question. Was she insecure about his demeanor? It was slightly amusing that she would care that much. He certainly wasn’t annoyed with her since he could barely remember what happened the other day that would cause such an emotion in him. Besides, he doubted he would ever feel any annoyance at all towards her. Braeden reached his free hand to grasp her wrist loosely. Len, I’m not annoyed with you so don’t worry. I’m not angry, upset, or anything like that. I just really don’t feel well. He thought that the best possible way to get to know someone was when they were sick and vulnerable or drunk. It was when all of the truth came out without a filter. I need to lie down. A frown crossed his lips as he looked for somewhere to sit. His main concern was no longer the book in his hand but how he was going to get home. Clearly, he was in no condition to drive and even if he were, he wouldn’t want to go home at all. He sat in one of the rather large leather club chairs and closed his eyes. The light made it worse.

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[marlene helen hamilton]

Len nodded slowly at his words, feeling mildly relieved for not having yet someone else pissed off at her; it was good, considering her biggest regret at the moment was being unable to keep those who mattered around herself. Not that Braeden mattered all that much; he was just a guy she had seen twice, or three times rather, and he had been nice to her, probably nicer than anyone else had ever been, but it wasn't a big deal. Truth be told, his being so nice all the time made her nervous, partially because it made her feel like a bad person in comparison, but mostly because too caring guys scared her: there was bound to be a trick behind such a gentle attitude, topped with a smart brain and good looks. Glancing at him, Len thought to herself that some flaws were easy to spot already: his being judgemental, strict, keen on emotional talks that made her feel worse, even his slightly odd behaviour at the time. Why had he got out so early in the morning on a cold day, when he clearly wasn't feeling well the night before and not so much better that morning? "Brey?" Her eyes focused on his as he sat down and closed them, looking slightly pale and nearly sweaty; chances were he had a temperature. "Hold on." Taking a deep breath, the girl turned on her heels and looked around, hoping to spot something that could make the situation better, but seeing nothing.

Were there any chemist's nearby? Maybe even a drugstore could do, meds were sold there too in the US, right? Furrowing her brows, Marlene suddenly realized she didn't know much useful information about the place she had been living in for the previous month and a half; sure, she knew where some clubs were, shops, cafes and even bookstores, but the location of basic places such as hospitals, police stations and the likes were completely unknown to her. Then again, she had been living completely sheltered in the Buganski mansion, acting like a tourist rather than someone bound to stay, which somehow helped making sense out of her behaviour; still, such a knowledge didn't make anything better at the time. "Excuse me." She approached a middle aged woman who was staring at a few magazines, located right on the left of the Classics section. "My friend there is not feeling well, could you give me that water bottle?" Her keen eyes had spotted an unopened one in a rather transparent plastic supermarket shopping bag; relieved as the woman nodded, Len took the bottle in one hand, handing her ten dollars with the other one, before quickly making her way back to Brey. "Here." The brunette told him, putting the cold bottle in his lap as she looked for something in her purse. "This is Ibuprofen, normally I take it for my cramps, but it's an all over pain killer. It doesn't do much for flu, but if your head or your muscles are aching, it should help." Popping one of the pills in his palm, she glanced at him, hoping her poor attempt at trying to help wouldn't have been completely shot down by him, even if even her considered it fairly useless.

[braeden ryan baker]

It was weird that Braeden understood why Len was so skeptical about everything. She had been burned in the past and put up walls to prevent that from ever happening again. Braeden went through that phase, hell, he was still in it himself. He knew what it was like to be fooled into thinking a relationship was very different from what it really was. Brey was a sucker two years ago and desperately wanted to see Rosie as best he could, even though he still wouldn’t admit it aloud, he knew there was a doubt somewhere in his mind that said she wasn’t all she was cracked up to be. Nevertheless, she still didn’t deserve to die. Everyone had their place in life and perhaps hers wasn’t by his side. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be with her and only gain strength from the pain she put him through. She had made him somewhat of a better person and for that he was grateful. The only thing he wished was that his life wouldn’t be so damned lonely. He didn’t have anyone to really talk to as he was an extreme introvert by no one’s fault but his own. Braeden couldn’t relate to society because he had morals unlike some of them. He didn’t think he was better than anyone else, but it might seem like that. He was no superhero, he was only human and if physically harmed he’d bleed too; by no means perfect.

Brey opened his eyes slowly to see her run off somewhere. A small part of him doubted that she would return. She probably wanted to get away quickly so she wouldn’t catch whatever sickness was coming upon him. It sucked to be contagious, everyone stayed away even more than they did normally. What made Len any different? He was slightly surprised that Len came back. He looked up at her slowly and concentrated on what she was offering him. Medication and water, it was probably the best he could best right now and he was eternally thankful. Thanks Len. Perhaps when I’m better I can make it up to you. He was thinking more along the lines of dinner somewhere slightly more expensive than the diner; somewhere nice that she wouldn’t be embarrassed going. He swallowed the pill and pushed himself up from the chair. Brey didn’t feel better instantly, pills weren’t magic but he knew that it was probably best to go home. I should probably go home and rest up, I’m sorry I ruined your morning. A slight pout crossed his lips before he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze in departure.

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