Author: M.E.
Fandom: Sky High
Summary: He couldn't help but find it...fitting.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Or Layla would not be such a pacifist. At all. Does the word grenades mean anything to you?
Characters/Pairing: onesided Warren/Layla
Warnings: angst, hormonal teenagers with superpowers (can you imagine it?), mentions of violence
Rating: T
Word Count: 367
..::..::..
It Had To Be Enough
She's so naïve it's painful sometimes. He can admit to a quiet wish —very quiet, mind—that on certain occasions he could set her on fire and watch her burn from the inside out, let her reach the point of intolerable agony, then pull back the flames to start all over again.
But that's quite a rare moment. She was just so frustratingly oblivious. There was no good reason—
He knew it all intellectually. He did. He prided himself on being observant, practical—he understood people. With parents like his there wasn't really an option in that category, it was either figure out how they ticked, go insane, or die—whichever came first. He happened to like living and enjoy what remained of his sanity; it wasn't really a choice.
Then she had to barrel into the picture and abruptly, his hard-earned self-control was nearly shot out the window. She was pathetic, she was a disgusting pacifist, she was weak, she was ignorant, she was, she was, she was…she was beautiful, she was sweet, she was funny, she was endearingly ridiculous.
And she was head over heels in love with his rival. She was completely unaware of any possible feelings from anyone else. The bastard was the center of her world, no matter the pain he caused her.
He knew that. He knew it like he knew his name, knew bitterness and irony, knew that his father was never coming back, and that the selfsame knowledge had broken his mother. He knew what he wanted was impossible. But he couldn't stop wanting it. He never could, until the night he saw as she disappeared out the broken windows with his enemy-turned-ally and accepted that this was the way of the world, again. He was not meant to find happiness or love or security. It was his penance, for being born.
He could not help but find his love failing unrequited… fitting.
The only thought he could hold to at this point was that she was finally happy. They were good together and he knew love when he saw it, just as when he felt it. It would have to be enough. It always had to be enough.