Our Place is Here

Two People realize they are falling in love as their world falls apart :)


1. Falling Away

.        "Clarry, Jenn, Michael, Damen, and Tom. I need to speak to those five. You've got to know who I'm talking about!" the cop looks at Clarry, not even knowing it was her.
        "Do you know what they look like?" she asks, smirking.
        "Of course! I could find 'em anyday, any hour. I could spot them on the street in a crowd full of people." he says. Of course he was lying.
        "Why do you need to see this Clarry girl and the rest?" Clarry looks at him, seeing his buddy waiting just outside.
        "We figured out they were the ones putting those graphite pics up on the buildings." Clarry's eyes widened.
        "How?" she asks.
        "Cameras. Poor kids too stupid to realize that rich people put those things in every nook and cranny they can. Those five probably dropped out of school. Too high on crack to realize they needed a better education." he laughs.
        "Cameras got the best of them? Damn, you'd think it'd be someone or something else. A police dog, some lousy do-gooder." she says honestly. She couldn't believe cameras had seen them. But this cop obivously hadn't seen the footage. Just then, Damen walking in from the five of them's hang out room. The Lounge.
        "Yeah i know, crazy- hi sir." the cop waves a kind hello to Damen.
        "Hey," he looks down at a can he was holding. "Where is the experation date on these things?" he turns the can over, then looks up when he hears no response. Clarry was freaking out inside. "Clarry? Hello?" The cop's head snapped up, looking at the two of them. He took out his gun.
        "Damen!" she yelled, angry.
        "What?- Oh. Holy shit. Dude, what did we do? Why do you have a fuckin gun pulled out?" he drops the can, raising his arms.
        "You two are under arrest for vandilism." the cop says, tailing the gun after Damen and Clarry, making them walk.
        "What? How-"
        "Cameras." was all Clarry had to say.
        "Damn." says Damen. The cop takes out his cuffs, putting one side around Clarry's left hand, one on Damen's right.
        "You should have watched the footage, man. You would have seen who we were right away. That's got to be embarassing." says Clarry.
        "Shut up. Duck." he opens the car door, pushing down her head after Damen's. There was a fiber glass shield in front of them, separating them from the cops.
        "Dammit!" Damen yells, jumping a little in his seat.
        "How long will we be in for?" Clarry whispers, exhausted.
        "One. Maybe more. Jesus! A fucking camera?" Damen's English accent was silky even when he was angry.
        "Rich people. I think we need to stick to being a band. Not a graphite group." she says.
        "Yeah, well, you and me will be together in this shit hole. That's probably the only upside to this." he says, referring to the Jail's "caught together, serve together" policy.
        "Yeah." she says, looking out the window. They had almost reached the jail.
        "You know, we're only seventeen. Shouldn't we be in juvie or something?"
        "Laws are different here. Sixteen and over, i guess. You've lived here as long as me, you should know."
        "Yeah, well, i never anticipated jail before." he says. The car pulled up to the dreadful place, which looked more like a dance club than jail.
        "I guess-" Clarry started, then the was being tugged on.
        "Out of the vehicle. Let's go." The other cop said. He was a thin cop, young, too. Early twenties maybe. His eyes lingered on Clarry a few moments to long, making her uncomfortable. They both got out of the car, letting the young cop direct them to an area in the building where Their fate was decided. They didn't really have court anymore. The cops tell some woman or guy in this area what the people did, the person looks through some papers, stamps out the time the kids serve. And Clarry and Damen indeed got one and a half years. Unless someone had bail money. Nope.
        "Clarissa Steel. Damen Slade. B16." The women says. They were led to a cell, people cat called all the way there. Once they were inside, the young cop raised a bag he had been holding, setting it on a chair. He took out Two uniforms, One was white with black linings on the shirt and pants. One was exact opposite.
        "Change." he said, crossing his arms.
        "Wha- in front of you? And him?" Clarry asked, her eyes wide.
        "Well, i don't see anyone else here, so yes. Change." he repeats. Damen slides off his shirt, revealing lean muscle underneath. Clarry looks away as he changes, turning around and sliding off her own shirt. This seemed illegal. For a cop to demand that inmates take off their clothes in front of them. Clarry shrugs on her new shirt, turning around. Damen had already changed, his jaw was set.
        "Now the pants." the young man looks her up and down, then tosses the pants to her. She angrily unbuttons her pants, slipping out of them. Damen's cheeks flush lightly and he looks away. Clary watched as the cops eyes took her in in the most perverted way ever. She quickly put on her new pants, kicking off her shoes. "Good, now was that so hard? In this bag, there are two tooth brushes, two hairbrushes, two tubes of toothpaste-"
        "Two of everything we need for good hygine?" Clarry says.
        "Pretty much. You will shower every other day. Breakfast at nine, yard by ten. Lunch is at one, yard by two. Dinner at seven, cells by eight. Got it? You'll be called for showers whenever they have time."
        "Got it." Damen and Clarry say. It was already almost eight at night, so there was no surprise that people were in their cells. And Damen and Clarry didn't even get dinner.
        "In one week, each of you will be called separately to my office. I'm in charge of you two. We'll go over basic rules, get to know each other so i know what to expect of you." He walks out of the cell, his neatly ironed outfit moving with him. He turns around, pressing four buttons on the cell, letting it close and lock. The cells now-a-days are way different than what you might expect. Everything is. Jails and prisons are enescapable in everyway. The locks on the doors are circular and light up one after the other as each tiny lock clicks. There are no keys. The officers have to keep a folder on them just to know the password for our cells. There was a panel in the control room that could open all of the cells, of course, but it was near impossible to get into.
        "The cop is a dick. And a perv. And that fat one is stupid. He didn't even think to look in the room where I came out of to get the others. I mean come on!" Damen sits on the bottom bunk of the oddly stylish bunk bed. The restroom was sectioned off behind a door for privacy.
        "Yeah, i know. But you wouldn't want the others caught would you?" Clarry sits beside him.
        "No, of course not." he runs a hand through his hair. "This sucks. A year and a half? For art?" he sighs, falling back against the soft bed. Clarry props herself on her knees, facing him.
        "Come on. This place - as much as they've updated it - is better than where we live. Hell, these beds are better." she says, pressing her hand into the mattress. "It's like a five star jail or something. I heard they even have a work out area somewhere."
        "How do you know all this?" he props himself up on his elbows.
        "Just - someone." she says, fidgeting with some loose string on the blanket.
        "Does this someone have a name?" he smirks.
        "He was . . . that guy i told you about. The ex boyfriend from when i was fifteen. He went to jail around that time after - after that happened. He contacted me a few months ago, saying he wanted to get back together and he told me all about this place."
        "Why didn't you tell me he contacted you? Why do i have to figure this out when we're in jail?" he sits up, looking at her.
        "I didn't think it was very important." she shrugs.
        "Not important?" he says. "You're someone I've known for fifteen years! It's pretty important!"
        "Yo! SHUT UP!" A man calls from a few cells down. Damen lowers his voice.
        "I think i deserve to know, that's all. Are you?" he asks.
        "Am i what?"
        "Getting back with him."
        "No. I told him no." she says.
        "God, Clarry, i wish you would tell me this stuff."
        "I tell you everything. Sometimes i just don't get around to it." she shrugs again.
        "You don't tell me everything. I mean, i tell you everything. But you don't tell me."
        "That is so not true. I don't know if or who you're dating. And if not, who you have an eye for. I don't know if your a virgin. I don't know if you've answered anyones pieces without telling us first-" Clarry starts.
        "Not dating anyone. I do have an eye for someone. A girl, obviously. I am not a virgin, lost it when i was fifteen with some slut my friend introduced me to. And i haven't answered anyone's pieces - look you see? I can answer any one of your questions. But you keep something as simple as that from me."
        "Fine. I'll try to be more honest from now on then. But you weren't completely honest in that statement."
        "Who do you like. That was the question."
        "Well,"he leans back on the bed. "I feel now would be the worst time to mention who i like."
        "How so? We're already in jail."
        "We've barely been in jail for an hour and I'm figuring out things i should have known months ago."
        "Well, maybe i should have known who you had your eye on months ago." she smiles.
        "You should have known years ago." he says.
        "That makes this worse." she laughed.
        "Years." he repeats in a whisper. Her smile fades. Before she knew what was happening, Damen had pressed his body against hers, his lips crushing her own. She gasped, her hands tangling in his hair. His kiss seemed needy, if not desperate. But meaningful.  His hands wrapped around her waist, somehow pulling her closer. One of his hands slid up her waist, sending tingles everywhere, then stayed on her cheek and jaw, warm.
        "LIGHTS OUT!" a guard yelled from somewhere. The two of them jumped, ending the kiss.
        "I'm sorry." he whispers.
        "No . . . don't be. I - i don't know what to say."
        "If you feel the same. . ." he looks down at her. "Say it." he meant their safe word. (Not for sex, as everyone seems to think.)
        "Felicity." she says. They chose that word because it meant happy. An intense happiness. Throughout their childhood, They had never fought. It seemed apporpriate. You may think she could have just said 'i do' but it was almost hard to say. He smiles a little. There was a bang on the cell.
        "Hey! I said lights out. Now." a middle aged man says. Clarry jumps up, turning the light off, then climbing up to the top bunk with one last glance at Damen.


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