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Half-phany
by ethrosdemon
Distribution: You don't want this
Disclaimer: Joss made it up, too bad he is an incompetent ninny.
Mutant Enemy and others own the rights. No suing please.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Epiphany
Improv: flame, boot, ache, tender
Notes: Trying to shake off Lindsey, he said tell them about this, and
maybe you can do that real fic you want. Short ficlet, 1st person,
disjointed pov. // // is lindsey singing along in his head with a
song and then a memory.
= = = = =
More pain medication, a new hand, and the apartment still empty.
She's not coming back. Deal with it. Drink it away, call in again
tomorrow. It'll all heal over, like the piece of graphite in the hand
that's not there anymore. Feel it, yup, all the time, but not
tonight. Bourbon numbs that itch dudn't it, Lin?
My boots tucked back into the closet, hidden away with the other
refuse of my past, letter jacket, daddy's Louisville slugger, photo
albumns. Ran so hard and long to find out it was a stand-still, the
past lives right here on my skin, in my blood, and there ain't no
escaping that. Never. Reconciliation of perceived self with actual
self just not gonna happen. I am who I choose to be. Except when the
rage takes over, and I just AM. So infrequently now. Only for her for
lately.
//Please come to L.A., we'll live forever
The California life alone is just too hard to bear
We'll live in a house that looks out over the ocean
And we'll see stars fall from the sky, livin' up on the hill
please come to L.A she says no//
The cds don't sound the same as the vinyl, all the records are too
scratched up to listen to now. Better than a decade of moving. Stasis
now. Physically.
No one's gonna crawl into bed with me tonight. Not that I'll make it
to the bed.
//Door creak and soft footstep, groggy half-awake responses.
"Darla?"
"Who else would it be?"
"Are you ok? In pain?"
"No."
"Are you lonely?"
"Oh Lindsey. Lonely?" Sweet chime of laughter, even at my own expense
it makes me smile.
Bed giving way at the foot under her weight, shift and displacement
of the mattress as she moves up to the pillow. Under the covers, my
head shifting to let her share my own. Naked flesh rubbing along my
side.
"Darla…"
"Just shut up, Lindsey." Hold my peace and let her have her way. The
same from here on out, played out over and over. Nails, teeth,
marking me, pulling me inside of her, the claiming one-sided and
angry. Room temperature flesh warming from friction and transferred
heat. Her setting the rhythm with the thrusts of her hips and braced
leg on my back.
"Tell me."
"No." her muscles tensing and constricting around me until I gasp in
pain, holding me locked inside her body unable to relieve the ache.
"Tell me, Lindsey."
"I love you, Darla. I love you." Constriction released, and she
coasts into a climax within thirty seconds while I try to come down
from the endorphine high from fear of immenant death.
"You can hit me now." I can feel the muscles in my face twitch, her
eyes looking at me then beyond me.
"Off," and she shoves me away from her, slips from the bed, pads to
the other room leaving me hard and about to cry or break her neck.
She sleeps on the couch, like always. I bring myself off with my
hand imagining I'm fucking her when she was still human.//
Just the first night though. So similar, can't tell them apart in
sequence, but that was definitely the first night. No biting.
All that emotion twisted up. Outwardly directed tangled with the self-
loathing and repulsion at even having to work this out. Soft. Falling
for the victim, baby alligator that grows up to bite my nose off.
Better to flush `em when they're still small enough. Some lessons
aren't ever learned. Didn't really ever love her. Needed her to need
me, to want my help, to look to me when the road curved.
Wasn't ever gonna be me. Delusions of something that never could have
been. Still saw the frail, confused woman in the beast that walked
back through my door after the fire. Commiseration in hatred, and
that's not a weak bond. But bonds have to have attachments at both
ends.
She played me and let me use her to fill my own needs. So at loose
ends and afraid, I just grasped on to the first thing that walked
into my life. Her filling my days and my thoughts, taking over bit by
bit until the void was filled with the flame licking at my heart.
Wanted it to be real so fucking bad. Wanted to love her, be in love,
feel that again. Feel something besides disgust for myself. Even if
she didn't return the affection, just to feel it inside myself,
remember what other people feel.
All those tender looks, those cooed words, a game. Biding her time
until she was healthy enough to go for what she needed. The only
person she could ever want. Hundreds of years, and there was never a
competition except within my own mind.
Shouldn't hate her for not being able to dredge up those human
emotions I can't even find myself. Shouldn't but do. Hate her for the
betrayal that isn't there. Hate her for cheating on me when I had no
claims on her. Hate him for everything. Why list them out? Hate
myself for caring at all.
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