keep on driving
Mar. 2nd, 2005 03:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impy...Gasp-eth! There are people who are all "rar!" towards The Power of Orange Knickers and think Damien's voice overpowers Tori's? Dude, if you have to explain the joke, it just ain't funny. The same seems to work on songs. Sigh.
This is like-super-rough-cut material, but I keep coming back to it. So up it goes, so I can say later that while it's not like I'm writing like a fiend, at least I've written something.
The door slams so hard, glasses in the living room lurch forward and shatter.
"Dammit," she swears under her breath. Seconds tick by and he doesn't open the door. He doesn't come back and appologise so they can make up like they've done a hundred times before. She waits until even the cats have given up hope.
When her pride is slashed to pieces, she inches towards their bedroom and nudges the door open. He's curled up in their bed, one perfect arm behind his head. His long eyelashes kiss his cheeks and he's on the verge of sleep. He looks so peaceful, and she's left wondering for the millionth time how he could ever love her.
She should be livid. She was a second ago. But now she's just so tired of it all. She's tired of dancing around all the pain that's been growing between them. She's tired of pretending things are better than they are, and she's tired of wishing for something she's starting to suspect she'll never have.
She climbs into bed next to him, slowly... So slowly that he could, at any time, reach out and pull her close and it would seem perfect. That's all it would take, she thinks. One touch and they would be alright. She waits, but it never comes.
She sits in their bed and is unable to fake it anymore.
"Do you love me?"
For years he's answered this with that smile she knows is hers alone, a kiss, and then he slowly patches whatever hole she's found between them. She's always known she's just fishing for compliments and affection every other time she's posed this question. But tonight she's not fishing. She honestly doesn't know anymore.
He looks at her and doesn't say anything for a minute.
A minute never felt so long, she's sure. Not for them.
"I don't know," he finally says, closing his eyes again. Coward.
And in that instant, all her hopes fall to pieces around her. Their happily ever after is over before it began.
And she can't even scream because now he's crying the tears she's afraid she'll drown in once she starts to cry as well.
One by one her tears join his on the comforter they picked out for Christmas last year. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Remember kiddies, if you tell me a story, I will mentally file it and probably use it. I've still got my favorite saved for use later. On the other hand, I also parade my own stupidity so it's not like I'm sending you out alone.
Issues kept me from work this evening. I'm going to bed soon, I think.
This is like-super-rough-cut material, but I keep coming back to it. So up it goes, so I can say later that while it's not like I'm writing like a fiend, at least I've written something.
The door slams so hard, glasses in the living room lurch forward and shatter.
"Dammit," she swears under her breath. Seconds tick by and he doesn't open the door. He doesn't come back and appologise so they can make up like they've done a hundred times before. She waits until even the cats have given up hope.
When her pride is slashed to pieces, she inches towards their bedroom and nudges the door open. He's curled up in their bed, one perfect arm behind his head. His long eyelashes kiss his cheeks and he's on the verge of sleep. He looks so peaceful, and she's left wondering for the millionth time how he could ever love her.
She should be livid. She was a second ago. But now she's just so tired of it all. She's tired of dancing around all the pain that's been growing between them. She's tired of pretending things are better than they are, and she's tired of wishing for something she's starting to suspect she'll never have.
She climbs into bed next to him, slowly... So slowly that he could, at any time, reach out and pull her close and it would seem perfect. That's all it would take, she thinks. One touch and they would be alright. She waits, but it never comes.
She sits in their bed and is unable to fake it anymore.
"Do you love me?"
For years he's answered this with that smile she knows is hers alone, a kiss, and then he slowly patches whatever hole she's found between them. She's always known she's just fishing for compliments and affection every other time she's posed this question. But tonight she's not fishing. She honestly doesn't know anymore.
He looks at her and doesn't say anything for a minute.
A minute never felt so long, she's sure. Not for them.
"I don't know," he finally says, closing his eyes again. Coward.
And in that instant, all her hopes fall to pieces around her. Their happily ever after is over before it began.
And she can't even scream because now he's crying the tears she's afraid she'll drown in once she starts to cry as well.
One by one her tears join his on the comforter they picked out for Christmas last year. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Remember kiddies, if you tell me a story, I will mentally file it and probably use it. I've still got my favorite saved for use later. On the other hand, I also parade my own stupidity so it's not like I'm sending you out alone.
Issues kept me from work this evening. I'm going to bed soon, I think.
