-Pending- Stained Flawless
an excerpt

--Standing Flower--

”-The apartment is a thr-…AH! Here’s Jaime now! Why don’t you ask him personally?”

Jaime smiled politely as he opened the door mid-ramble. Mr. Markson stood tall with an odd, strangely giddy light in his eye that hadn’t been there before, at least not during the time he’d known Mr. Markson.

After meeting Mr. Markson’s beaming smile with a somewhat more embarrassed one of his own, Jaime turned to the young woman who stood patiently behind the older man. The girl offered a smile, flipping her red hair over her shoulder in a self-conscious gesture Jaime didn’t believe for a moment.

Pale green eyes met his without a trace of the smile that brightened the smooth angles of the woman’s face. Jaime struggled to hold in the instinctive shiver that ventured up his spine. It wasn’t possible, however, to keep this smile steady, and Jaime felt the edges sink lower.

Mr. Markson, as oblivious to the sudden unease that had settled over the doorway as a gorilla noticed a dead leaf, clapped them both on the shoulders and laughed. “I can see you’ll have great time together! And when the other two arrive, it’ll be a regular par-tay! Jaime sent Mr. Markson a blank sideways look, his smile finally having a reason to slide completely off his face. From the blurry corner of his eye he saw the girl give Mr. Markson a lopsided grin, a hand coming up to scratch sheepishly at the back of her head. She almost seemed to be apologizing to Jaime for the landlord’s behavior. Jaime could sympathize.

Jaime sighed and shook his head. While Mr. Markson was still laughing Jaime quickly scribbled something on his board and then wacked the older man over the head with it. Almost immediately Mr. Markson stopped laughing.
“Oww! Jaime! What was that for?”

Jaime gave him a look and flipped his board over and up so the man could see what was written. ’Have you completely forgotten your manners?’ The woman peered curiously at the board and smirked, giving Jaime a quiet 'thumbs up' form down at her side.

Jaime grinned minutely back, … right before his hair was ruffled by an over large hand. Jaime scowled, the girl laughed and everything just seemed to fall into place.

“Of course not! Forgive me, forgive me,” he took the woman’s hand and placed a kiss on it, “my dear lady I meant not for you to have to wait out here in the unappealing hall while the scrumptious breakfast I’m sure kind Jaime has prepared for you and your companions grows cold!” Jaime dropped his head into his hand, his board dangling from his other in complete hopelessness.

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes, drawing her hand away with a sharp tug and twist, throwing Mr. Markson off balance. She knocked him to the floor with a quick tap to his ankle. “Like hell you are, Markson,” she grumbled good-naturedly, and Mr. Markson laughed as he picked himself up.

Then she turned to Jaime, who didn’t quite want to look up anytime soon. “Hey, hey, you in there?” She said, moving forward to pry his hand away from his face. “He-ello?”

Jaime peeked at her from between his fingers and she raised an eyebrow. For the sixth time in the last half-hour Jaime sighed and grinned, straightening up. He nodded to her. She grinned widely, her eyes having lost the assessing light to them a while ago, and that made her face even brighter.

“I’m Samantha, and only Samantha, not Sam, not Sammy, not Amanda, Samantha.” She crossed her arms and ignored Mr. Markson’s sudden moaning about how he was supposed to do that part.

Jaime nodded and held up a finger one minute. He wiped away the old message on his board and jotted down his own name.

“Jaime Harver,” he watched her mouth quietly. “Well, Jaime, nice to meet you!” She held out her hand and Jaime shuffled the board and marker around a bit before taking it in his.

He smiled back again and then pulled away, he stepped back completely inside his home and to the side. With wide sweeping gestures he beckoned them inside.

After Samantha had passed Jaime nudged a shoe near the opening. Mr. Markson dodged it easily and Jaime rolled his eyes. Mr. Markson gave him a smirk and Jaime lightly shoved his shoulder.

Samantha had found her own way to the dining room, not that this was hard to do, and stood waiting for them to arrive. Jaime gestured toward the chairs and then crossed the room as Samantha took a seat. He threw the marker he held at Mr. Markson as the man moved to sit as well.

Ignoring the expression that could only be described as a pout Jaime waved a bit to make sure he had Samantha’s attention and then tapped the whiteboard by his kitchen. Samantha blinked in confusion for a second as she twisted completely around in her chair.

Comprehension dawned on her face when she read the list and she laughed. “You really have this all worked out don’t you?” She said good-naturedly, “I’ll have an orange juice please.”

Jaime nodded and then gestured toward the plates and food he’d set out earlier. Help yourself. Jaime left the room before he could see Samantha’s first experience of the food, but Mr. Markson’s laugh spelled it out for him just fine.

“I told you that your food was lethal!” The older man laughed from the next room. “It should have a warning or something!”

Jaime placed the orange juice carton back in the fridge calmly and walked back into the dining room balancing a glass of orange juice and a glass of apple juice. Samantha had her back to him shoveling eggs and bits of bacon into her mouth as fast as she could.

Setting the glasses on the little stand next to where he was standing Jaime pulled the blue marker off the ‘service’ board and wrote down a message. Now balancing the glasses on the back of his board Jaime placed the juice next to Samantha, who suddenly looked sheepish and defensive all at once.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’ve been living off cafeteria food pretty much my entire life, this is Heaven.” Her eyes sparked up at him and Jaime had the uncomfortable feeling that he’d suddenly missed the meaning of a joke.

Shrugging Jaime flipped his board, now free of glasses, over so she could see the message. ’It’s fine, Mr. Markson choked the first time, be careful though’ Samantha raised an eyebrow and glanced at Markson from the corner of her eye. Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a snicker.

Samantha looked at him and rolled her eyes, she jerked her head sharply toward Mr. Markson, who was pre-occupied trying to steal a strip of bacon. Jaime was batting at his wandering hand with the uncapped marker. She mouthed loco and Jaime smirked as he continued fending off Markson’s’ bacon stealing attempts’. So far Jaime had all his bacon and Markson’s hand was covered in blue ink stripes.

The woman in the room watched the happenings with an amused air, food often finding it’s way into her mouth whether it was on her plate or not. All their thoughts were strangely content.
’Maybe this could work after all…

Then the doorbell rang. Followed by a solid thump. Jaime and Markson looked up in alarm. Samantha looked vaguely annoyed and stood up sharply, a bit of bacon still hanging from her mouth as she stalked from the room. Jaime and Markson traded glances before following her.

“I forgot that the others were supposed to be arriving soon,” Mr. Markson murmured under his breath. Jaime shot him a faintly annoyed, faintly disbelieving look. Really, of all the things…

The door was opened and Jaime moved up beside Samantha as the person, or more appropriately, people came into view on the other side.

“You’re both late; no heaven-food for you!” Samantha snapped around her bacon piece. Jaime gave her a blank look before turning his attention to the two in the doorway. He reached out to help keep the door open as Samantha tried to slam it.

The man who stood directly in front of them had short but shaggy dirty blond hair and eyes as pale as Samantha’s but blue. He wore an easy grin even as he held the door open with one hand, the other buried into the pocket of his blue jeans.

Behind him stood a taller man with short, even hair that gleamed silver in the light. Jaime blinked. Nope, still silver. The eyes were a dark coppery brown that gazed at him with a cold intensity that couldn’t quite be called ‘curious’. There was no other word for the expression, though it was entirely too frigid.

The odd cold feeling he’d gotten just a short while ago when he’d been introduced to Samantha returned with a vengeance. He could feel himself becoming light-headed; the world shrinking away. It felt like there was a weight in the atmosphere…

Before his legs could collapse and let him make a fool of himself a large hand came down lightly on his shoulder, helping to steady him
.
Jaime fumbled slightly when something flat and slender and cool was shoved into his hands. Jaime grasped his whiteboard and marker like a lifeline as Markson moved carefully between him, Samantha, and his other ‘housemates’ he supposed.
Oh boy.

It was odd to see Mr. Markson so wary, but already Jaime could feel the tense atmosphere melt away as the man did his magic. Jaime scribbled his name on his board, more to act like he was doing something than to actually be prepared.

He looked up at the sound of his name.

The silver-haired one was watching him coldly, the blonde was leaning back on his heels, hands in his packets and eyes half-lidded in a friendly, assessing way. It made him uneasy.

Jaime smiled anyways and Samantha stalked away from the door, grumbling about the male species in general and how they were all on her Shit List and should rot in Hell. Except the ones that could cook…and something about culinary angels but Jaime had stopped listening by then.

Mr. Markson slipped an arm around his shoulders and shook him lightly. “This is the one who’ll be lending out his home to you,” Jaime couldn’t stop the slight reddening of his cheeks and he shook off Markson’s hand. Mr. Markson continued as though nothing had happened. “His name if Jaime Harver…”

He trailed off as the blonde one held up his hand. “Hold one,” the boy said, his voice clear and bright, “I can’t think of any good, original nicknames for ‘Jaime’.”

Jaime groaned and the silver haired on twitched. Jaime knew where this was going. The blonde one tapped his chin, “got any middle name?” He asked Jaime, glancing at him from disturbingly pale blue eyes. Jaime blinked and shook his head warily, glancing at the other one without actively trying to seem as though he was asking for help.

It was hopeless though and Jaime was ignored.

“He doesn’t have a middle name but I have something else that might work,” Manson offered and Jaime tensed when he realized what was about to be said. With a cry Jaime leapt for Markson’s mouth with his board, intent on destroying the thing.

It took surprisingly little time for Markson to pin him and Jaimes only thought besides pure panic was: ‘well at least Silver is paying attention now…I just wish he’d stop glaring at everyone…’ Mr. Markson laughed.

“His parents couldn’t agree on a name so they decided to give him two names,” Jaime groaned and thrashed around a bit; he couldn’t do much more than that without tipping his arms out of their sockets.

The blonds had perked up and Silver’s attention was drifting again. “What was it?” The blonde asked.

Mr. Markson shrugged. “First your names.: The blonde one rolled his eyes and grinned at the still-captured Jaime.

“My name’s Tram, remember it alright? That guy behind me,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “his name’s Sterling, don’t mess with him unless you wanna die.” This earned him a violent shove from ‘Sterling’ and a glare from Mr. Markson.

Tram grinned innocently at Markson. “Well?” He asked. Markson sighed and ignored Jaime’s frantic throat-sounds.

“His dad named him Jaime, his mother named him ’Song’

Jaime groaned like he was dying and dropped his head.