A/N:I am such a failure. I don't think I've written anything since 2009, or anything good since 2008.

My cover-up story: I was dead.

Yeah.

Deadlines.

by QueenofPascalities

An abandoned building, tore to the ground by some ancient deflagration, only its foundations standing. Grey concrete walls, digging through the earth, constantly assaulted by the harsh sun, about a meter of them sticking out of the ground, giving a purpose to the broken windows. At the top, merciless wind. At the bottom, warm tranquility, where weeds and wildflowers find shelter in the corners, barely pushing through the hard surface of the ground.

Outside, once you've passed the door-less doorway and the decrepit lobby, a wide field. Grass, weeds, rocks. All dry, with the lack of rain in the area. At one end, a dark, dense forest. At the other end, houses, small businesses, streets full of people, a lively town. No one thinks of the ruins. The old walls have a story, but no one knows it. No one wants to know it. It'll be forgotten soon, anyway. There'll be construction, at the end of the season, of a new neighbourhood.

For most, it's a fresh start.

For a small group of people, it's a deadline.

Or, rather, another one.

Every day that passes, at all hours, people come and go through the doorway. Teenagers. Sometimes, the occasional nostalgic twenty-year-old, or a midlife crisis victim trying to remember what it was like to be young. Everyone is accepted in the circle, even just for one time. They talk about trivial matters and never mention in a conversation what they're there for. They're all already aware of it and make a point of ignoring it, out of respect, in order to keep the peace among the members. It's a family of sorts. No one tells, no one gets in trouble. Everyone covers up for everyone that has messed up. Everyone watches out for intruders, to protect himself as much as the rest of the family.

There are seventeen regulars at the most, all from different social classes, different origins and following different styles. Personal style doesn't matter in the foundations, anyway. There are no rules and no rulers. Only members, addicted to whatever they happen to crave. Some can be as inoffensive as avid eaters. Some are there for drugs, selling, buying or using. Some are there just to fulfill their need to feel accepted, surrounded. Some seek pleasure in others, or pain in themselves. No one judges nor discriminates. It's the one place in town where there can be complete privacy in an open space.

Against the longest wall stands the only door of the place. Behind it, a small, dark room, with barely enough space for ten people to cram themselves into, although, most of the time, only two people use it at the same moment. Shelves occupy half of the walls, stacked with battery lamps, the only source of light when the door is closed. It's the only hiding spot the foundations can offer. The lamps are solely used in that room, as no one needs them in the day and no one wants to alert onlookers at night.

The most recurrent users, twelve youngsters between the ages of fifteen and nineteen, students for the majority of them, constitute the main family in the foundations. They never or very rarely walk around together. They arrive alone, or in pairs, at any time they want. They don't socialise outside of the foundations, unless they're already in the same group of friends. On the outside, friends and lovers alike are strangers, or mere acquaintances, at the most. Everyone understands and everyone accepts it. If they don't, they risk getting everyone arrested.

They never throw parties and only ever invite people in when reached out to. They have no motto, no secret handshake and no usernames. They're simply there, sharing the space. The girls are more likely to befriend each other than the boys, but they're also known for acting as enemies on the outside, whereas the boys simply ignore each other. In the foundations, however, bonds are created and solidified. Sometimes, a couple is formed, as people come and go. On even rarer occasions, some of those couples get married, in secret. It usually means they'll be leaving, to get a chance at a life together on the outside. One marriage out of all of them hasn't left yet. Living in secret suits them, at least for now.

Their marriage is a glimmering light of happiness to all the family members. One of the rare.

Because the family is in danger. The impending doom of the reconstruction looms over their heads like the dark clouds of a thunderstorm. The end of their family, of their world, is near, and they know it. They have faced deadlines before, all kinds of them. There were deadlines for those who were moving away, deadline for those who needed to pay for drugs, deadlines before winter, a time when they couldn't use the foundations. Every once in a while, there were dead lines on monitors, when someone overdosed. Losing a member was hard enough, but losing what served as their home felt like half of each of them was ripped away.

When the papers started being stapled all around town and on the walls of the foundations, they knew there was nothing they could do without being incarcerated. Instead of fighting, they resigned to letting things happen and decided they should spend their last day of freedom together, as to never forget what the foundations had done for them.

And today is that day.

Never before had they spent an entire day sitting in a circle on a wide blanket someone had brought, simply talking. No one went off to attend to their own business. They ate together, an action they had rarely seen each other doing. They told jokes, sang songs, remembered good times and laughed at common childhood classics. The two spouses, snuggled together, announced they were expecting. The girls gushed about how the baby would have his dyed blue-haired mother's natural black hair and his blond father's brilliant blue eyes. The boys exchanged congratulatory handshakes and manly hugs. When night came, they lay down, head-to-head in the center of their circle, and looked at the stars. With the lack of light in the foundations, the stars appeared brighter and far more numerous than how they looked from the city. It was absolutely exhilarating.

That whole day, it didn't rain, there wasn't a single cloud on the horizon and the wind was a surprising soft breeze. There were no police alerts, no suspicious onlookers and no innocent by-passers wondering what a group of kids were doing in an old abandoned building's destroyed foundations.

No one talked. They were all lost in their thoughts. None wanted to leave, knowing they would never get to come back. Some cried silently. Some thought up impossible plans to stop the reconstruction. Some prayed either for a miracle or for something to replace their home. Some did their best to imprint the faces of the family in their memories, to make sure they'd never forget anything. There was an air of sadness and mourning floating around the cold gray walls. The picture they created, had it been photographed, was heartbreaking and heart-warming at the same time. To see this small group of teenagers, each of them completely messed up in their own different way, yet all joining forces in their time of trouble, some of them holding hands, offering comfort to those who needed more of it, as only real friends can do, alone and together under that one big sky of shimmering lights of happiness, was a truly touching sight.

When midnight rang on one of the boys' watch, they started to get up and leave. In a matter of hours, construction workers would be roaming around, destroying their home, and none of them wanted to stay to witness it. By five in the morning, only four of them remained. The spouses, rightfully dubbed as the family's parents overnight, had stayed with the newest couple, their respective best friends, a girl with bright dyed-pink hair and a boy with spiky jet-black hair. The parents knew what would happen when they left the new lovers alone. With a few snide comments from the father and a thumbs up between the girls, the parents bid their goodbyes and went their own way, arm in arm.

After watching their friends disappear over the walls, the two turned to each other. With only an hour left before having to leave, this would probably be their only time together before long. The boy, upon learning about the reconstruction, had let his parents convince him to send him to another country for college. The girl was staying there, to finish high school. They'd never talked outside the foundations and although they'd been running after each other for years and their official couple status was only weeks old, they'd spent those weeks together at the foundations almost twenty-four hours a day. They wanted to have something special before being separated.

The sky was slowly getting brighter. They had to hurry.

He cupped her face with his hands and brought her closer, to lock his lips to hers. She gripped his shirt and responded to his hungry kiss as he tangled his fingers in her hair and pushed her back against one of the walls, bringing his body flush against hers. They tried to move quickly, kissing every bit of skin they could reach.

There would be no preliminaries for them, no testing the water, no experiencing anything outside the main event, no taking it slow and making sure they were really both ready. It had to be now. Now or never. Without it, they'd never have the emotional closeness to stay together across the distance.

No clothes were completely taken off other than the girl's grey cotton panties. The boy unclasped his belt, unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the ground, then hauled the girl's legs up around his waist, pressing her more against the wall. Their breaths were heavy and ragged. Holding the flushed girl up with one hand, he slipped the other between their bodies to guide himself to the right place. Then, as quickly as he could, he brought his hand back around her leg and gave a jerk upward with his hips. She let out a yelp and froze, her eyes locked to his, her lips parted.

He didn't move. He, too, had been slightly taken by surprise, even though he had generated the movement. He was never one to hesitate, but this time, he knew it was important that he did. They stayed there for a moment, staring at each other's eyes, joined at their center against a cold concrete wall. Her hands on his shoulders were gripping him like claws, while his hands dug into her thighs. They slowly took in the new sensations, still unwilling to move. The girl waited for the dull pain to subside while the boy waited for her to decide whether she wanted to keep going or not, relishing in the feeling of being inside her, the warmth of her.

Softly, she let go of his shoulder and brought her hands to his hair. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, trying to tell him to go slowly. Not quite understanding what she meant but realising he didn't want his first time to be up against a wall, and knowing she wouldn't want hers to be like that either, he pulled her off the hard surface and turned back to the blanket still spread on the ground. He kneeled down and laid her on the scratchy fabric, then shrugged off his leather jacket. She peeled off her own jacket, trying to keep her mouth on his.

They lay back down and he took it upon himself to start to move. He pushed his hips against hers, trying to slip as deep inside as he could, then withdrew and repeated. The girl's sighs gave away her contentment and encouraged him to keep going. He pushed more forcefully against her, but kept his slow pace. As little time as he had left, he didn't want to rush things. Not at this point.

She gripped at the boy's shirt. Her previous pain was completely gone. The few inches of their sweaty, sunburnt skin sticking together, his arms hugging her to him, her hands in his damp hair, his deep, ragged breaths in her ear, the motion he made in her, everything felt like heaven. Even the scratchy material of the blanket and the bothersome clothes they were still wearing couldn't throw her off. Every time he rammed forward, she'd let out an uncontrollable moan, knowing it was absolutely impossible for her to hold it in, and she let them grow louder and louder with each push he gave.

The tight knot that had formed in her stomach suddenly came undone and all the muscles in her body tensed then relaxed in half a second. She saw stars, millions of them, adding up to the ones slowly disappearing above her. She felt the boy give a few faster pushes, then he exhaled deeply nest to her ear, his warm breath brushing her neck, and went limp against her, panting.

They lay there for a while, in each other's arms, catching their breaths. It hadn't taken long. All those stalled years of beating around the bush and those mere weeks of a real relationship came down to three minutes. The three best, without a doubt, but still only three. It was all they'd had. They were too exhausted to repeat the same act before having to leave and they wouldn't get much of another chance before he was sent away, which was later that morning.

Remembering he'd have to go soon, she hugged him closer to her body, trying to hold back tears. This was probably all she'd have to remember him by, and so she meticulously took every detail in, to make sure she didn't forget. Secretly, she wished he got her pregnant, just so they could share an even stronger bond. She wanted to give birth to his kids. No one else's. If it was now or in eighty years, she didn't care, she'd find a way to make it happen. She'd have as many as he wanted, whether it was one or twenty. Because, truly, all she wanted was to be with him. She'd never tell him about any of it, but she still could dream about it until it happened.

This morning was their deadline. They'd respected it as well as they could have.

He nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of her hair, which he couldn't quite pinpoint but found oddly relevant at that exact moment. If he could just find out what it was, he could buy it and remind himself of her scent while he was away from her, even if it meant paying for girl stuff. In public. He'd have to ask her before he left.

One second he was wondering about her shampoo, the other he mentally slapped himself. Instead of trying to plaster the moment in his mind, he was making plans to buy his girlfriend's preferred hair care product. Telling himself he was the biggest idiot on the planet, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and rolled to his side, pulling her with him. She let out a little squeal and he chuckled, temporarily forgetting about her shampoo.

He was still debating if he should go through with moving to another country. He didn't want to be away from her, but staying there would mean getting to see her, but only from afar, as they still had to keep pretending they didn't know each other, to avoid making people suspicious. After all, even without the foundations, neither of them nor any of the others was clean, except maybe the parents, but that was only since the pregnancy. Seeing them hanging out together, in a full-on relationship, would raise questions, as, outside the foundations, they didn't have anything they could've bonded over enough to discover what they actually had in common.

Acting like they weren't together, with nowhere to meet up to give in to each other, would be Hell. Flirting like they'd just met would be excruciatingly long and boring, not to mention impossible to explain. They hadn't gone to the same school, they weren't in the same grade, they didn't have the same outside friends.

Going away would mean being safe for everyone.

But maybe not seeing her would be worse than staying. Which was why he was still hesitating. He'd have to choose soon. Six o'clock was coming up quickly and his flight out of the country was too. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and held her tighter to his chest.

When she merely mumbled, he realised she was falling asleep. One brief moment, he wished he could let her drift into sleep, he wished they were somewhere else, where they were allowed to lie together for as long as they wanted, where they didn't have to have sex on a scratchy blanket with their clothes on because it was too cold and risky to be naked, where they wouldn't have to sneak out and leave alone, to make sure no one sees them together.

Then he checked his watch and realised they had very little time to get up and leave. He shook the girl awake and unhooked himself from her. That simple action made him want even more to stay lying there, but he knew better than to do that and instead, he fixed his pants and got up to retrieve the girl's underwear.

She had half-moaned, half-grunted when he'd moved away. She opened her heavy eyes and took in the sight her boyfriend offered her. He was standing a few feet away, his hair all dishevelled, the sun shining right behind his head as if he'd been placed in front of it for a movie scene. It created some sort of halo around his hair, which she didn't know if she should find beautiful or ironic, considering how little of a saint he was.

A gentleman, yes, but not a saint.

He walked back to where she was sitting and handed her the gray panties. She put them on while he picked up his jacket, then crawled to get her boots that she had discarded at some point during the previous night. She got up with her own jacket and approached the boy, who was offering her his extended hand. She took it and let him pull her to him and responded to the kiss he planted on her mouth. She threw her arms around his waist, starting to feel an urgency that wasn't there before when they kissed, a need to keep him near at any cost. His arms circled her shoulders and neck and it felt to her like he was kissing her with all his might.

They eventually leaned away, their morning after bliss completely gone. Her heart broke before he even told her what she feared he would say and her eyes filled up.

"I'm leaving," he said in a tone he made seem convinced.

She let tears fall freely down her cheeks and simply snuggled further into his chest. There was no use in fighting. He was leaving and it was final. It was the logical choice, anyway.

After one last kiss, she let him go. He picked up the blanket, walked out the foundations and disappeared behind the walls. She waited three minutes and left as well, walking through the doorway of the foundations for the last time. She strolled home, trying her best to look inconspicuous. By the time she reached her door, both her parents were gone to work and she could hear the sounds of concrete walls being torn down. She wiped the last of her tears and entered her house.

She made sure all the windows were completely shut and no outside noise could reach her ears. She locked herself in her room, turned on her music and lay down on her bed, curled up into a ball. She wasn't crying anymore. Everything was for the best, she knew it. The family was safe, the parents were finally clean, and so would be everybody else eventually, her boyfriend had made the right choice, she was keeping a part of him with her, just like he was bringing a part of her with him, and they'd see each other in a year, when she'd join him in college. Maybe she was pregnant, even.

They'd have a future. It would be another story to tell, one with a better ending than this one. Their past would never be forgotten and be told to many people along the years. But right now, the present was the only story she wanted to read.

So, she smiled and closed her eyes. Before she could fall asleep, the buzz of her cellphone made her jump. She got up to get it from her jacket pocket and opened the text message she'd gotten, which, she saw, came from her boyfriend. She giggled when she read the words he'd sent her. She typed her reply and went back to her bed, where she finally drifted to sleep, happy.

Sitting in the boarding area of the airport, the boy was waiting anxiously for her answer. When his phone rang, he pounced on it and hurriedly opened the text message. Her words made him smile.

Should I ask why you want to know?

Green tea and cucumber Dove shampoo.

A/N: It doesn't look like it, but I'm in a good mood. School's over, I've just had a really great week and I'm leaving for England tomor-... no, I guess it's today, now. First trip to Europe, I could scream (but I won't because it's three in the morning and my sister's sleeping downstairs).

Updates should arrive eventually, as I seem to have gotten some writing talent back. I said "some". This was inspired by a real abandoned building, a real field and a real city. None of these events happened, but it would be kind of neat if they did. Well, some of them.

Review?