A/N: I know, I should be working on "A.I.T.", but this just came to me, and I had to write it. Chapter five will be out soon though; I promise. Also, this fic'll be a bit of tense change for me. I never write in present tense, so we'll see how this works.
Bold within text is French . . . If I futz it up, forgive me; I don't speak a lick of French, other than "Bonjour," "Merci," and "Au Revoir."
Enjoy.
I Love You, But
I'm listening to a new, girl band I heard on the radio. They're a heavy metal, rock group, and normally, I wouldn't be interested, but today, I'm upset; my current relationship is falling apart--pretty much has, already--and I can't focus on anything otherwise. Their music--some would call it angry chick rock--blaring through my computer's meek speakers is necessary while I study.
He barges into my room without knocking (What else is new?), and I turn my head to look at him. Our eyes meet, and I can feel the heat in his gaze. His chin is tilted toward the ceiling ever so slightly, and the corners of his lips are curved up into that characteristic smirk. He has something to say, and I don't think I want to hear it.
"Listen, Casey," he begins, practically shouting over the screams of the lead singer. I take the tell-tale gleam in his eyes as a warning and look away, preparing for what he'll yell next.
"These past couple months have been awesome." He makes it sound as though they won't be anymore, blatant hint number l'un.
"And I wish I had more of a reason--" He stops speaking. He can probably sense the tension in my body, which is characterized mostly by my clenched fists.
"Case, I love you, but . . ."
And he's said it. I hate those four words. The first three are wonderful, though tossed around far too often, but when followed by the last . . .
You know, the word "but" should be eradicated from the English vocabulary. It promotes indecisiveness, opposition, resistance, and it sounds too much like the commonly-used, "butt" to really do anybody any good.
I'm bracing myself for what comes after his, "I love you, but" because I know it'll be bad.
The only way it won't be bad is if he says something like, "I love you, but I know you don't feel the same." How easy to counter that would be. As simple as, "But, I love you, too!" or, if I didn't feel the same, "You're right. I'm sorry. It's over."
As it is, he'll probably end up saying something to the effect of, "I love you, but we're practically related." To that, I'd say, "Legal ties and blood ties are very different." But he'd ignore it because he doesn't really care about my arguments for keeping up this coup of what I once believed was "true love."
He might go out on a limb and try and make me feel sorry for him, with something like, "I love you, but you're too good for me." To emphasize this point, he'll abruptly leave the room, abandoning me, so I can wish I had the guts to call after him, "I'm not too good for you, Derek! If I was, I wouldn't be so desperate for your touch! I wouldn't want to kiss the smirk off your face right when I see it! I wouldn't think about you all the time, and I wouldn't love you so much!" And, of course, I'd stick with the rhyme to make it sound poetic and lure him back into my arms.
More likely though, he'll let me down frankly. He is the epitome of blunt honesty, which both annoys and exhilarates me. He'll say simply, "I love you, but seriously, this is never gonna work. See ya, babe." And then he'll abruptly leave the room because he won't be able to stand seeing me cry. And I, being the proud, stubborn, "Princess" I am, will not beg for him to come back, and I will not wish for his love when I see a shooting star, and I most definitely will not try to convince myself that he had fooled me all along and that it was a stupid thing to try in the first place.
"I love you, but" doesn't mean, "I never loved you, so go away." It means something more along the lines of, "I love you . . . but not enough."
Not enough to spare you the heartbreak.
Not enough to keep it in my pants.
Not enough to risk everything for you.
Not enough to try and make it work.
Not enough to love you.
I can accept that I decide with a short nod and look up. Barely.
Derek's snapping his fingers at me, eyebrows raised. "Did you hear anything I just said?" he hollers irritably.
I blink, coming back to reality, where the speakers are trembling from the loud music and Derek's rolling his sparkling eyes at me.
"It's no fun to tease you if you don't hear it!" he yells, reaching across me and turning the speakers down to their lowest volume; my breath hitches as his face passes only centimeters from mine.
"I said," he restarts huffily, wanting to make me mad, no matter the cost, "I know it's your time of month, and you think that's a good reason to have your angry chick music shaking the whole damn house, but seriously, turn it down."
I just stare at him, mouth open slightly, probably looking like a complete idiot. "Max and I broke up," I blurt after he raises his hands expectantly.
Derek frowns at me, thinking I didn't catch the light that briefly ignited his eyes. "So?"
"So, I'm playing my 'angry chick music' as loud as I want!" I bark, getting back into swing with our usual rhythm and turning up my music louder than it was before. "Get out!" I scream, watching in satisfaction as he sulks and slams the door on his way out of my room.
It's so much easier to imagine my unruly stepbrother smiting me with the painful, "I love you, but;" I guess I can really see him saying that, but actually, I think I'd be more heartbroken if he said it than I was when Max did. Of course, Max ended it with, "I love you, Casey, but . . . there's someone else." He completely defied the rules of "I love you, but." He didn't love me at all. Don't worry; I didn't love him either.
Obviously.
A/N: Er . . . I can explain? No, I really can't. Review if you like!