It Sounded Cooler In The Movie
Part One: .net/s/3587879/1/That_Sounded_Much_Cooler_in_My_Head
Part Two:
.net/s/4580487/1/It_sounded_cooler_in_my_head_too
Chapter One: The Question
They had talked some while they ate, but not much. After word there had been a bit more conversation, but it was half-hearted and awkward. He didn't want to talk, he just wanted to look at her, admire her. To re-instill the image of that beautiful face in his mind.
She looked a bit different now, her old, thick electric green highlight had been abandoned for thin emerald-colored streaks that complemented her naturally dark hair that was a good deal longer than it had been. She'd lost weight, noticeably so but he guessed it to be from stress more than anything. Her eyes were different now too, the soft jade had steeled and kept a deep hurt hidden inside.
She had the eyes of a widow of war. In a way, he figured that was exactly what she was, only he had turned up alive and was here with her.
Now they stood by the door and this ghost was staring her in the face with the same intensity and love he had two years ago. He lingered there even after farewells were said and looked at her watchfully, eyes wanting.
He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to push it. He was pretty sure she could tell it to, and she made no move towards him.
"Really, it's getting late… you should go," Elizabeth said quietly, her gaze turning to the floor.
That was his dismissal, he would be leaving with no goodnight kiss. He knew he was asking too much.
"You do have a place to stay, right? Like a real place," she questioned, "Not a rooftop or warehouse or something."
He chuckled, "Course I do, luv, ya don' gotta worry none 'bout me." The slight smile on his face slackened, "…Goodnight, princess." Despite himself, he reached out and gently ran his fingers along her jaw, drawing her eyes back to his.
She closed her eyes and turned away, "Goodnight, Mort."
He nodded and left with one last glance over his shoulder at her.
He put his coat on and flipped the hood up; beating up a few photographers should get his mind off things for a little while.
x-X-x
Elizabeth closed the door behind him, trying not to look at him. So much pain, so much pain had come from being with him; loving him.
But she was giving him another chance; she still loved him with all the pieces of her broken heart she loved him. It was faded, as fractured as her heart, but the love was there. Heartache had numbed her to him slightly, instilled a sense distrust deep within her.
And she didn't like it at all.
He had his excuses, and to a degree they were very valid. She shouldn't have tried to move on so quickly, then he would have come back sooner. But she had needed some one so badly, needed that stability, that affection. When her second choice had failed her, she was starting to think she was cursed.
Cupid had taken one look at her, said "Wow, I feel a deep and inexplicable loathing for this person", and spat on her.
Sighing heavily, she pried herself away from the door and flopped down on the couch with his picture. She'd grown numb to it after a while, but now it just drudged everything that had happed up again, just like it used to. A few tears traced their way down her cheeks and she hugged it briefly before setting it face down on the coffee table. An old ritual of hers.
He was back… he was really back…
x-X-x
Mortimer hadn't go home, and chose to instead hang around her flat. On photographer had had the gall to actually try to snap a picture of his Liz undressing. He'd quickly found himself unconscious with a smashed camera, and Mort had taken his place. In many respects, she was as beautiful as ever. Or maybe he had forgotten just how beautiful she was.
How could she accept the idea of spending her life with someone like him, he'd never know.
His body started to heat up as he watched her. He remembered their bodies intertwined, her venerable naked form, her creamy white skin dotted here and there with the odd freckle, and her eyes looking up at him with a love he had never known.
He waited two hours after her light had gone out before he let himself back in. It probably wasn't his best idea, in doing this, he risked losing one of his chances, and he didn't know how many he had to begin with. Odds were good he'd need every last one of them for when he inevitably screwed everything up.
But he had to know.
He crept up to her bedside, getting down on his knees. The light from the city outside played over her face from the window. Her breath was steady and even, and if the older Liz was anything like she had been, she'd still sleep like a rock.
"Liz?" his voice was a whisper. No, less than that; a gentle word carried lightly on a breath of air. He watched her intently for any signs of waking.
She didn't stir.
He didn't know if this would work, but it had a few times when he had tried before. He had read about it somewhere, how you could ask a sleeping person questions and it was just about the only time you could get an honest answer. Of course, they had to be simple questions.
A few times, when he had woken in the night, he had talked to her in her sleep, sometimes asking her simple questions. And sometimes he got answers.
"Liz, do you… do you still love me?"
That had always been his favorite question.
Her eyebrows tilted downward in a quizzical expression, and he stiffened, wondering if she was going to wake up. In another situation, his reaction might have been to laugh. She mumbled something and rolled over.
His heart sank, that had sounded a lot like a 'no'. He couldn't blame her though. There had to be something there, though, she had loved him one, had that picture of him, she was giving him this chance…
" 'Lizabeth, could you… could you ever love me like you used to?"
No answer.
He tried again, but she still didn't reply. He asked again, louder, but she still didn't respond. He sighed and nodded.
"Well I still love you, 'Lizabeth, same as I ever did," he told her, "and maybe… maybe I can get you to loving me again too."
x-X-Review Please!-X-x
