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Thread: anyone up for a romance rp?

  1. #21
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    John watched Heather go into the barn and felt something withing him yearn to go and follow her. He sighed. She didn't want to go and that was were it should end.
    But then why do I feel empty inside?
    He shook his head and tried to walk out of the farm but found himself walking towards the barn. He tried to stop but his body wasn't responding. Finally his feet stopped outside the barn door. He breathed deeply before knocking on the door,
    "Heather... I can't leave without you. I don't know why but..." he sighed and leaned his head against the door, "I need you."
    The last part was said too softly for Heather to hear it and he knew it. He sighed again and sat with his back against the barn door, his thoughts swirling madly in his head.
    The truth shall make ye fret

  2. #22
    A metallic clang indicated that the barn door was being knocked on. She at first was frightened it was her infuriated Uncle asking her why the barn door was closed, but heard, of course, John speaking instead. At hearing his words, part of her was absolutely thrilled that he lost his "charming" mask. She had a feeling he wouldn't be using that anymore. She was also entranced and puzzled. She was wanted. All of a sudden, she wasn't invisible to someone- and to someone she barely knew. He sounded so lost. She got up, with Misty still snoozing, and climbed down the loft ladder. She stood by the barn door, knowing he was probably somewhere on the other side of it. What was she to do? Though she felt strangely connected to him, she was too scared to put much trust into him. No matter how much she wanted to, she didn't know if she could ever bring herself to go with him willingly. She was too selfless. Why did she have to be such a pushover sometimes? Timidly, she opened the barn door to find John sitting near it.
    "I don't know what this is..." she said, cautiously sitting near him. She felt very confused, for his words were much too sincere to be fake. Heather had a good knack for sensing people's emotions, whether they wanted to reveal them to her or not.
    "I...I couldn't possibly run away with you." she said, suddenly getting up. If he were to turn out to be abusive or fake, she would have nowhere to turn. Her gut instinct angrily yelled at her for not trusting it when it told her that he wasn't abusive or fake, and that she should not be so cautious. She looked into his eyes, wondering if he could see what confusion she was feeling.
    Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint

  3. #23
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    Joh felt his heart sink into his stomach. He dropped his head,
    "Well... part of being free is making your own decisions... I'll not force you." he flinched mentally as a voice shouted at him to take her away with her or try and convince her further. He pushed the voice away and stood up, something salty clouding his vision. He didn't look at Heather,
    "I hope to see you again Heather... but I doubt I will." as he turned to leave his tears flew off his face and began their long descent to the ground. He shook his head as he slowly walked away. Why was she making him feel this way? He'd been around women before, so why was this one any different? Why did something inside him yearn to be as close to her as possible? Why did he agree with the yearning?
    The truth shall make ye fret

  4. #24
    Heather watched him go, not being able to move. It seemed her feet would not budge, and her thoughts were meeting a brick wall before they could be processed. John was like a door of light, and the father he walked the more it closed. Far off somewhere in the depths of her subconsious, she scolded herself for being such an idiot, for not going with him since anywhere was better than here, but she still could not move, speak, or think. Only watch.
    "Heather!!" her aunt squalled from the kitchen, "are you comin' to sweep up this floor anytime soon?"
    She wished he would turn back, with newly gained persistence, but it didn't happen that way. He'd disappeared around the bend in the road.
    Heather finished her chores in a daze, thinking about him for the rest of the day. When twilight finally came, she was too tired to write or read. Heather took down her hair as her aunt and uncle were busying themselves in the parlor, speaking of whatever it was they spoke of. She went out to the barn, spending time with Jasper and the other horses, and Misty sat on the ledge while other barn cats sauntered in and out as they pleased. There weren't many barn cats, but Misty did have about 3 other sisters. When night finally consumed the landscape, Heather made her way inside. Moments after she closed the door to her room, there was a knock on it. This startled her, since that never had happened before. She opened it to find her uncle standing there. He pushed his way in, looking around, inspecting the few things in her room. Most of Heather's personal belongings were in her wardrobe, save a few things. Apparently, that isn't what her uncle was searching for.
    "Heather, I saw a boy in our yard today," he said darkly, "what was he doing here?" Heather's heart rate sped up a little bit.
    "He was a traveling salesman, uncle, that's all."
    "He wasn't carryin' anything." he said, eying her suspiciously.
    "Oh, well you see his product was too big to carry around so he just had papers in case we wanted one...but it was a-" her uncle interrupted her nervous babbling by saying
    "Well let's hope he don't come back here again, because if he does he'll learn what a rifle looks like."
    Heather could tell that he didn't believe her due to the skepticism filling his narrowed eyes. He made his way over to her window, locking the latch without a word. He nodded to her on his way out, which was his way of
    saying "goodnight, and I hope you have most pleasant dreams." While she changed to her bedclothes, she listened for the sound of her aunt and uncle's door closing to let her know they were going to sleep. When she did hear it close, she unlatched her window and opened it. A lovely cool night breeze filled the room, making the long curtains flutter. Heather turned down her oil lamp and laid in bed, staring out the window into the night. She sighed, knowing she would probably never be offered freedom again. She would never see John Book again, and suddenly found herself desperately wishing she could. With his rebellious air, and adventurous eyes secretly filled with sadness. She closed her eyes, fantasizing about what could've been until the breeze lulled her into a light sleep.
    Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint

  5. #25
    Member Nefieslab's Avatar
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    John sat down on a roadside log as soon as he found that he could control his legs agin. He placed his head in his hands and sighed. He had had plenty of time to consider why he felt the way he did and the only explianation had been taught to him by his mother when he was three.

    Love is what the world will always need John. Its what binds people together and makes them stand tall, together, for the ideals of freedom and equality. Love is what makes you weak at the knees and makes your heart jump into your throat. Love is what completes us John. Without love a human is just another animal.

    John shook his head at the memory of his mother, the mother that had been taken from him. He shook his head harder, not in denial, but in shame. He was in love and he'd turned his back and walked away. He began to feel the tears welling up in his eyes again but instead of brushing them away he stood up. He wasn't going to try and run from what he felt anymore, he was going to see Heather and convince her to come with him. He began to run along the dusty road again, back to the farm.

    When he reached the edge of the farm he hesitated, but only for a second. He jumped over the gate and ran to the farmhouse. He flattened himself against it and looked up at the open window. He sighed and began to climb the ivy that grew along the wall. When he was at the right height he stood on the window ledge and looked inside. His jaw dropped when he saw Heather sleeping peacefully, not because she was no doubt dressed in night clothes but because the light of her lamp played accross her skin and entranced him. He eventually whistled, quietly so that he was sure only Heather could hear him,
    "Heather... wake up Heather..."
    The truth shall make ye fret

  6. #26
    For just a moment, Heather was in between dreaming and being awake. She felt like she was sighing along with the wind outside. She heard her name being called. It was by a voice that was still strange to her, yet she felt it belonged with her all the same. She couldn't explain the feeling, and didn't want to give the effort to try. It would all piece together in the end. She slowly brought up her upper half, leaning on her elbow and facing towards the window.
    "John." she whispered. She didn't even have to see him, since her vision hadn't fully recovered from sleep- she knew it was him. She was about to get out of bed, but shyness overtook her as she realized she was only in a nightgown- which would easily reveal her silhouette. She let out a slow breath as she rubbed her eyes with her palms. The wick on the oil lamp had just burned out- and the room was filled with the light of the gibbous moon- a waxing gibbous. The full moon would be here soon, which made Heather fill with joy at the thought. She loved the moon, and she felt as if it loved her as well- she knew it did. Her mind, still loose with the concept of sleep, was filled with thoughts easily flowing in and out. She had to push them away and focus. A boy was at her window, a very unusual boy named John. A boy she secretly wanted to know inside and out. She felt so helpless all of a sudden, and didn't know what to do about it.
    Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint

  7. #27
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    John watched as Heather woke up. He'd have to admit it now... he hadn't really thought he'd get up to this point. And so, naturally, he didn't know what to say. But his body did know what it was supposed to do. John found himself walking over to Heather's bedside and he knelt down near her. He looked up at her, stunned by her beauty,
    "Heather I... I... I want you to come with me..." he looked away from her, "If you don't I won't know what to do with myself... but even if you need some time to think about it..." He looked up at her beautiful face and loved the way her eyes glistened, "I'll wait for you to decide Heather... I'll wait because... Because... I think... I think I love you."
    The truth shall make ye fret

  8. #28
    With every step John took, the more awake she became. He knelt closely to next to her, and she'd never felt so cared about before. She'd never felt as though someone was actually thinking about her. She honestly did not know how this was possible, him loving her. Who could really lover her...?
    She wasn't terribly pretty, maybe in a unique way if she thought about it. She was a skinny little thing for 15, though moderately strong. She could tell he needed to love and be loved just as much as she did. She knew his words were not empty- that he only wanted to love someone and chose her. This was the sort of love where you could understand eachother without need for much words, the sort where you loved the other for your connection to the other's soul, not just compatibility. At this point she was staring at him with her blankets pulled up to her chin, her hair curtaining her face. This was where fear fought to rule her head instead of her heart. It was a fear to trust.
    She looked into his deep green eyes, seeing a hidden desperation and isolation. Isolation he longed to get rid of, just as she did. She wondered what he saw when looking into her eyes. Was she an open book, or closed to the public? She imagined she was probably somewhere in between.
    "I...I..." Heather couldn't seem to find words. Her thoughts were whirling too fast for her to take anything out of them and put it into words. Five dresses hung in her closet, 2 journals sitting at the bottom, along with 4 of her favorite books. The rest of the books she read were kept in her uncle's study. She could make a knapsack out of her working shirt. This could work. She didn't know much about John Book yet, other than the knowledge of their connection. He was capable of many things, as rough around the edges as he seemed to be. He might not give her a choice. Earlier that day she'd noticed the pocket knife tucked into his boot. He did seem to love her, however that managed itself, but she knew he was tired of not getting what he wanted. Maybe he didn't even want her. Why was she doubting herself? She stared at him helplessly.
    Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint

  9. #29
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    John felt his heart sink again as Heather looked away. He sighed,
    "I...I love you Heather... but if you don't love me... I won't make you do something you don't want to do." he stood up, feeling like he would break if she rejected him. He had laid himself bare to her, opened his eyes and let her see what lay behind the jeans and flick knives. And she obviously didn't want any part of it.
    John walked over to the window and stared out of it at the moon lit farm. He rested his head against the window frame and sighed,
    "If you love me as well... just please... please say so. I can't bear being kept in the dark anymore..."
    The truth shall make ye fret

  10. #30
    At hearing his words, Heather got out of bed. Slowly at first. Once he had finished she'd rushed over to the window by him, softly taking ahold of his arm. She felt this was the only thing she needed to do, for he knew.
    "John...just wait here."
    Heather went over to her wardrobe, collecting 3 choice dresses and 1 journal and book. The dresses were thin, so they weren't very hard to fold up. She made a knapsack out of her working shirt and tied it up soundly. She gave him a reassuring glance as she stepped inside the wardrobe and closed the doors. She had to crouch a little as she quickly and silently changed into a dress. She stepped out, throwing her nightgown lightly on the floor. She gingerly stepped into simple brown loafers that would be easy to travel in. Tucking her ribbon in her pocket, in case she ever needed to tie her hair back again. She stood to face him, her big eyes locked with his from across the room. She picked up her knapsack and went to join him by his side, staring out at the moonlit landscape.
    Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint

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