#the other side of the fence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morganofthewildfire · 1 year

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The Other Side Of The Fence

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~2k words

CW: mentions of domestic abuse

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The sun was blazing down like it always was, burning Aelin’s skin where she laid in the crunchy brown grass. It was the middle of summer in the middle of fucking nowhere, and while the sun was technically setting soon, it refused to go easily.

She stared up at the puffy white clouds, picture perfect ones just like a damned kid’s drawing. With another drag of her cigarette, she exhaled and ruined those clouds with a hazy stream of gray.

Laying on the hill behind her sorry excuse for a house, clad in just her tiny cut off denim shorts and a faded bra, smoking a cigarette, no one would look at her and think she was going places. But she wasn’t offended, because it was true.

She’d been trapped in this hellhole of a town for the past twenty years of her sorry life. Her mom had tried to pretend it was better than it was, buying shit all the time like they weren’t living in what was practically a trailer, trying to be motherly in an avoidant way. Evalin Galathynius didn’t like to look things in the face; if they were anything less than perfect then she didn’t like to give it too much time to sit in her head and rot. Like Aelin.

Her dad was too busy fucking around with other women to even notice anything was wrong, and her only other relative, her cousin Aedion, was too damn high all the time.

Which was how she’d ended up here: married before she was even able to legally drink.

A clanging noise interrupted her self-pitying solitude, and she tilted her head on the grass to look down the hill. Her neighbor was fixing a gap in the chain link fence that lined his property, shirtless under the baking sun as he grappled with the metal.

Aelin lifted a hand to her eyes to block that sun, unable to stop herself from staring. How was she supposed to, when her neighbor was a godsdamned work of art?

His skin was rough and tanned, with some scars she didn’t feel like she had the right to ask about. His arms and his muscles were mouthwatering, offering more pleasure from just the sight than her husband had in their entire relationship. His hair was a unique shade, almost silvery in the light, and his eyes. His eyes. The dark green of them that reminded her of forests far away from here, or of glittering jewels she would never be able to afford, or of just safety that she’d never known.

He’d only moved in recently, a new member to the cesspool that was this town, and the first time they’d met she’d had the urge to tell him to run away. Because Rowan Whitethorn was too good for this place. He didn’t belong, he unsettled her, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

“How’s the view up there?” His voice rang out, and she had to blink to realize that he was talking to her. They’d hardly spoken, and his voice had the same effect on her every damn time.

At first Aelin thought he was calling her out for staring at him, but he seemed genuine, so she just leaned back down on the grass, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“Beautiful,” she said sarcastically as she stared back up at the clouds. “I don’t know any place prettier than my own backyard.” A rumble of a chuckle made her insides clench in an unfamiliar way, and she closed her eyes to distract herself, only opening them again when she felt him approach.

She snapped them open, watching him warily as he came up to her.

“Mind if I join you?” Rowan asked, running a hand through his short hair, and she just gestured loosely with the cigarette. He took the invitation, sitting down on the grass by her side. Maybe she should be embarrassed that she was only in her bra, but it was a free country, and like she'd said, she was in her own backyard.

If he had a problem with it, he could leave.

Her husband would have a problem with it, but he was still at work, and would undoubtedly stop and pick up a new six pack of beers he’d drain all in one evening before taking his subsequent drunkenness out on her. It was routine at this point.

“What’s the deal with the fence?” Aelin asked after a few minutes of silence, glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye.

Rowan shrugged, and accepted her cigarette when she offered it to him, looking far too sexy when he inhaled and exhaled like a practiced smoker.

“I’m thinking of getting a dog,” he said casually, “you need a good fence for a dog.”

She nodded her head at the logic, an almost wistful smile gracing her face. Not a true smile, she hadn’t had one of those in years, but something close to the sort.

“I always wanted a dog,” she admitted, unsure of why she was saying anything except for the fact that Rowan seemed to draw things out of her that no one else could.

“Why don’t you get one?” He asked, passing back the cigarette. She sighed heavily, staring straight at the sun and relishing in the ache it caused.

“Arobynn hates dogs,” she said, naming her absolutely wonderful husband. Aelin didn’t even try to hide the bruises anymore, it didn’t fucking matter. She’d made the decision, and if she was being honest, she would probably make the same decision again if she needed to. It was just how it was. “He had one when he was a kid and said he’d never do it again.”

“And when was that?” Rowan asked, with a bite of anger in his voice that had her snapping her eyes to him. “Forty godsdamned years ago?”

Ah. He was questioning the age gap. Even if he was exaggerating, he wasn’t far from the truth. Her husband was old enough to be her father; Aelin just wondered why he seemed to care?

No one else ever had, and wasn’t that the crux of every single one of her problems?

Aelin didn’t know if Rowan had ever actually interacted with Arobynn apart from the first time they introduced themselves to their new neighbor. It was always an act, always a puppet show. Maybe they owned one of the nicer houses in one of the nicer areas of town, but it was just as shitty as the rest of it, and the falling apart facade failed to hide the absolutely crumbled pieces inside.

Rowan seemed to harbor some sort of resentment toward him though, something more than could be caused by a couple of months of living next door. She had half a mind to ask him about it, but she didn’t want to have to answer any difficult questions. There were some things that she never spoke aloud, and she hated herself for how much she’d broken over the past few years, but she couldn’t let herself shatter completely. And admitting the truth just might do that.

Aelin shifted uncomfortably, frowning up at the sky instead of looking at him. A few moments passed before she opened her mouth to forcibly change the subject, not wanting to pry into the twisted secrets of her everyday life. But he beat her to it.

“What would you name your dog?” He asked, and she could feel his eyes on her body. Not gawking, he seemed to be more respectful than that. No, if anything he was assessing her, taking stock of every injury that her skin contained, trying to pierce through her skin to see what scars were buried even deeper.

Aelin had never felt more exposed, but strangely, she didn’t shy away.

“Fleetfoot,” she said quietly, her voice piercing the still air. All that was around them was the chirp of crickets, the rattling of an old industrial plant not too far away, the occasional pop that she could never be sure was a car backfiring or a gun taking down another not so innocent life.

The town was riddled with crime, and though Aelin tried to stay out of it, she was sure she’d get pulled in at some point. Everyone did. Her husband was probably involved, though she would never ask. She still valued her miserable life.

“Why Fleetfoot?” Rowan asked politely, his arms braced on his knees where he still so casually sat. She didn’t know what he did for work, but if he wanted her to know he would tell her. She had no desire to disrupt whatever stolen moment in time this was.

“A dog named Fleetfoot would have to be fast,” Aelin explained, uncaring if he would understand or not. “I would want a dog who would run the hell away from here with me.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rowan nod in agreement, and she didn’t like what that did to her. He couldn’t possibly understand. Right?

She turned her head fully to watch him properly, her golden brows furrowed. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes, and her heart squeezed, like it always did when she saw that piercing green. She should look away, Aelin knew she should. She barely knew this man, and he barely knew her.

It didn’t matter how much he fascinated her, it didn’t matter how much she wanted to pry into him and learn all his secrets the way he seemed to want to learn hers. It wasn’t possible, and the attempt would just hurt them both.

But she couldn’t look away.

As if something was pulling her, Aelin sat up slightly, pushing onto her elbows until she was sitting up all the way, putting herself only inches away from a man who was not her husband. Aelin felt no loyalty to Arobynn, how could she? But it would make everything worse if she forgot herself and her situation.

Her breath stuttered as Rowan leaned in infinitesimally, his eyes dropping to her lips. Unconsciously she wet them with her tongue, unfamiliar warmth pooling in her. She’d never felt desire like she felt for him, she’d thought that part of her was broken.

But she wasn’t foolish.

And when the familiar sounds of Arobynn’s car pulling onto the driveway hit her ears, she jerked away in an instant, head turning toward the house. Her heart was racing, fear rushing through her veins. But she forced herself to take a deep breath, squeezing her hands into fists to fight the trembling. It’d been so long, she hated herself for still having this reaction to him.

She glanced at where Rowan was sitting, but he was already gone, back in his yard, toying with the fence like he’d never even left.

Aelin didn’t herself look at him again as she scrambled to a stand, putting out the cigarette in the dirt and heading toward the house. The tiny square footage of space, and the hill, was her whole world at this point. She rarely left. She had nothing to leave for. Her parents didn’t want to see her, her cousin was so out of it that she wasn’t sure he remembered she existed. The only other person she’d cared about was already gone.

But before she stepped through the screen door of the back porch, she chanced a glance over at Rowan’s house, wondering hopelessly what it would be like on his side of the fence.

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