Wanting Them | By : destiny18au Category: +1 through F > Daria Views: 6712 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Daria, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Wanting Them
Author's Notes:An idea that won't leave my head. This is set after Is it College yet? I am aware that Tom and Daria had a romance which is now over, besides this fact, I am a shipper fan and always will be. Being too compatible with someone makes for a boring romance and a boring relationship. If you don't like my pairings please don't flame me, my suggestion write your own fanfictions with your favourite pairings.
Daria sighed for the tenth time that afternoon. She sat staring at the blank monitor screen. She was meant to be writing an essay on some movie which she had no interest in and the way it impacted on today's society.
'And I thought high school was bad.'
She sighed again, frustrated with herself. The computer beeping startled her out of her little world and the voice of the female made her jump out of her seat.
"You have mail."
It stated simply,flashing a white box on the screen.
"No really, I wouldn't have guessed from the little flashing box."
She said out loud, rolling her eyes and moving the cursor over the box and clicking.
When she saw the name she smiled, not really noticing that she was. She was thinking about those thoughts and feelings the one's she shouldn't have been feeling. The one's where Trent was on her mind even though she thought she was over that crush.
'Besides'
She thought bitterly.
'It's not like it would have worked anyway.Most of my life has turned out that way.'
Now she was thinking back to her past romance with Tom. It wasn't exactly a good start to any relationship. Going out with Tom whilst he was still with her best friend, and it didn't end much better. They were too compatible, and also very bored with each other. Thank god she hadn't gone all the way with him, it would have been a regret, a very big ugly,drown my sorrows in alcohol regret. Now she was thinking of those dreams, those damn persistent, pay attention to me dreams. The ones that made her skin crawl, and took her breath away. She thought she had all this figured out in high school, why all of a sudden did this pop up out of nowhere? It definitely wasn't stress, maybe it was her body's way of saying "Hey are you listening to me? You need intimacy whether you like it or not."
That wasn't all that was bothering her though. She needed to speak to someone about it, but who a councilor? She definitely couldn't tell Jane. She pondered on what to do for a moment before remembering.
'My Journal.'
With that mess in order, she set about her next task reading the e-mail.
To:Daria Morgendorffer
From:Jane Lane
Subject:Checking In
Hey Amiga,
How's Raft treating you? I know right now you are probably shaking your head at me but ah hell, I'm bored. BFAC is stifling my creativity and who knew how much reading there actually was. I have so many books that I still need to check out. Speaking of checking out I've met a very nice boy who's name is Jay. And now I know you are glaring at the monitor. Anyway we still on for the weekend? You had better say yes I have a surprise for you.
Later Jane.
'Great'
Daria thought bitterly, surprises and her did not mix well. Jane's surprises seemed to go from terrible to apocalyptic in a matter of minutes. She couldn't deny though she did want to see Jane, she missed their weekly banter on idiot teachers,and high school students.
To:Jane Lane
From:Daria Morgendorffer
Subject:RE:Checking In
Lane,
You know how I hate surprises, but because I haven't had a decent conversation in a matter of days, I will be more than willing to meet up as planned on the weekend. Just make sure that the apocalypse doesn't come. Actually scratch that, when the apocalypse comes on the weekend, make sure I'm ruler will you, I don't need idiots in charge. Speaking of which the professors here are worse than those idiots, that called themselves teachers in high school. I think O'Neil would have a field day with this damn essay I'm meant to write. Being an English Literature Major, means nothing here. I'm thinking that this professor, wants to get a least a couple of good reviews for this damn movie I've never heard of, nor interested in. Guess I'll have to make up a whole heap of junk. And this Jay you speak of, please don't tell me it's because of what happened or lack of what happened on move in day? One more thing Lane, you had better not be trying to set me up. I'm comfortable with my lack of love life.
'That wasn't true'
She thought, but Jane didn't have to know.
See you in a couple of days,
Daria.
She gave the e-mail a once over, and hit the send button. Then she got back to work on this essay,typing away frantically. She needed to get this done, so she could get onto other matters. The one where she had to write in her journal, to sought out her thoughts and feelings.
Finally she flopped down on her bed on the right hand side of the room and started to write. Pausing every now and then with the lid of the pen pressed to her lips. She was thankful her room mate was out with her boyfriend. She would feel guilty writing down any sort of feelings, these ones though were most intimate and secret. Probably something to look back upon and laugh about at the age of sixty.
It's weird, I've had this damn dream nearly every other night now. The one where teenage boys would have wet dreams over, the ones where they would brag about it to their friends. That's just the trouble I can't talk about it. I wouldn't brag about it too anyone, well maybe except you, I know you can keep secrets. It starts out the same as always. I'm back in god forsaken Lawndale, doing what I usually do. Being typical Daria, reading on Jane's bed, reading upside down. Jane is standing at her easel, canvas plastered with paint, a paintbrush in hand. She stops to ask me a question. Like usual I'm not listening, I have to ask her to repeat it again. She chuckles, setting down her paint equipment and coming over to the bed. She sits on it beside me, it looks like she is thinking about something. I think it's cute. I find myself even in my dreams, trying to understand what I've just thought. I thought I was totally straight, I'm right aren't I? Well maybe that's why my relationships, wait scratch that to relationship failed. Then again I still have feelings for Trent, damn it. What the hell is wrong with me. Why I struggle internally with myself. Jane has her right hand on my head running her fingers through it. Ok, now this is freaking me out.
"Umm Jane, what are you doing?"
I state simply. She hasn't stopped though as she speaks.
"Sorry, couldn't help myself. It's for one of my projects. I wanted to know what colour your hair is more closely. I also needed to feel the texture. I know you aren't the touchy feely type. I'll stop now if you want."
I don't know what has come over me, but before I can stop myself, words just come tumbling out.
"No! I mean it's a nice, now I can see why people do this."
I sigh contently leaning back into Jane a little, as her hand still runs through my hair. Her door abruptly opens, startling us both, but she doesn't stop with what she is doing.
"Hey Janey, have you seen...."
It's Trent, so much for privacy in this household. My heart has begun to race, but I feel too good to move or even open my eyes, when did they shut? I think to myself before sighing. Trent doesn't seem to be able to move or speak and I can feel Janey laughing, before her vocal cords do the rest.
"Daria's never had a head massage before, so I thought I would show her the joys of this wonderful technique. Hey Trent..."
I feel Jane move one of her hands from my head, but I'm in total bliss and at this point I don't care what she is doing. My eyes are still closed but I can hear whispering and then I suddenly feel my feet becoming cold. This makes my eyes shoot wide open and I almost sit up, but Jane's hand is sitting firmly on my head.
"Relax."
Jane states, before going back to her task, her hands move from my head to my shoulders. Trent is massaging my feet, and the automatic thoughts that follow make my cheeks a flush a crimson red.
'Oh God, I hope he can't see up my skirt. Oh God, I hope my feet don't stink. I can't believe he is actually doing this, or Jane for that matter.'
Little do I realize that things are going to get heated, more heated then ever.
Daria turns to look at the digital clock, she blinks repeatedly.
"Hell have I really been writing for that long?"
She whispers, afraid that if her roommate is in, she might wake her.The little red flashing lcd screen blinks at her before ticking over another minute it reads 3:41am. She sighs before closing the journal and taking her glasses off before her eyes shut on their own accord.
Author's Notes: New chapter hopefully soon. I want to thank SSJ04_Mewtwo for my first review for this story. Yes I am usually a shipper fan but I wanted to do something different and that's where this story came in.
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