Too Close To The End
AN: Set after Leo (Lea/Theo) break up. Cory is done waiting for Lea.
They say you don't know what you have until you lose it.
He grits his teeth watching the two lovebirds fawning over each other, his girly hands touching the winglets of glossy brown hair framing her delicate illuminating face aglow with this radiance that makes him want to scream.
That was his girl, that slimy unshaven unclean rodent in the street that belongs in a gutter, she's so out of his league they're playing a different game altogether. He clenches his fists, the vein in his neck popping from the infectious sound of her laugh across the room filling it like a hollow sound from a nightmare.
He sighs frustrated, like a man in love imprisoned by his own feelings. What does she see in that guy? For an eternity he's been waiting for the chance to prove himself worthy of her affection yet the opportunity never seems to materialise. Every step he takes forward, he stumbles backwards in defeat like a pathetic martyr and fool in one giant package of what he now sees as a failure of a man.
Doesn't she see the way he looks at her? Like she is the light and hope he is waiting for shining a light in the darkness of his past life which overwhelms him ever so consuming. He wishes she would notice the twist of a smile that automatically arises in his lips when she graces him with her presence. She's unforgettable, undeniable and unbelievable. Sometimes he looks over at her face when they're side by side as if to assure himself she is actually real and not something ethereal.
He glances back at the Broadway power couple and cringes, the sight of them makes his skin crawl but he bites his upper lip and controls his urge to throw something in an outrageous fury of emotion. He hunches his shoulders, letting the breeze calm his effervescent rage and clicks his jaw, hands in pockets with a profound vulnerability overpowering him momentarily and walks away. He's good at that, he thinks bitterly, with a forced laugh. As he steps away the couple in the distance embrace with a bittersweet essence and he misses the glance his girl, the girl he's been dreaming of forever, dart at him longingly.
He's wallowing in self pity, accustom to this little ritual he indulges himself in almost every night for some time. If he recalls rightly it's been two years since he has been in this abyss of melancholy drowning in what feels like a sandpit of emotional despair, he's been dug so deep he can't get out.
He's so far gone with his own thoughts, in a trance like state recalling the same memory of the first time they met as if an ancient video player on a broken record constantly mercilessly rewinding of what could have been, he misses the puny ever so discreet knocks.
He enters the large white crowded room filled with all these ridiculous set of diverse kids who look like something out a theatre production of underdogs and Midwestern models combination and feels oddly alienated like Frankenstein in the land of Hobbits. He's in some kind of shock from the look of the cast and stumbles into the coffee cart, bumping into something with a capped coffee flask. He murmurs an apology and laughs nervously at the pretty girl whose petite tiny body which just moments ago clashed against his large bulky lanky frame.
'I'm Lea,' she laughs adoringly.
'Cory, the clutz. So sorry about your...er...,' he tries to decipher what it is she's wearing, it's this vest like frilly nightwear like looking top. He's never been one for fashion. She catches his eye thought, legging and boots with legs that go on for miles for someone so short and cute, eyes that glimmer with extraordinary almond orbs exuding warmth and passion, and her voluminous hair transcending to loose brown curls around her one of kind face. He swallows, his throat dry and instantly mute, trying to muster a sentence, some words, nothing. Breath taken by her beauty like a schoolboy with a crush.
'It's a camisole', she says matter of factly and his face morphs into a dimpled smile.
He shrugs, face plastered with the permanent coy smile, dimple dented in his sweet innocent face while she eyes him with her doe eyes, mocking offence.
'You learn something new every day', he mumbles.
'Hey! Shut up!' She exclaims.
Her puny but pointedly sharp elbows poke him on his acutely chubby sides and he bursts into giggles, her contagious bubbly laughter captivating him and he knows then and there, there is no going back.
Luck would have it, as they walked side by side to the reading table; he had found the Rachel Berry to his Finn Hudson.
Oh boy! Talk about wanting to dip into the company ink and mix business with pleasure...
The pounding on his door awoke him from his too familiar daydream.
'Cory!'
Oh crap, he looks down at his phone on the computer table, back slouched into the rolling chair and legs sprawled under a too short a table to accommodate his long legs. He's late!
He doesn't even bother looking at his depressing face in the mirror marked with worry lines and bangs under his eyes from thinking of her, his girl all night, what he could have had and how close he was to having it. He sabotages everything! He kicks his chair in classic Finn Hudson demeanour and feels a small but significant amount of relief, if only just for now.
The rest of the day goes on in a haze, the reading of the script, talking to the crew, rehearsals, it's all so routine. When did something he was so passionate about become mundane? Oh right, when she broke his heart into a million and one pieces by bringing him into a perfect that was already too perfect to be true.
Reality has a way of biting your ass.
He grumbles like a zombie, walking back toward his trailer like the recluse he's become when he catches a glance if her looking straight at his amber eyes glistening and her vision a sight for his sore tired jaded eyes. Then she smiles a coy uncertain smile and waves, the girls next to her too self absorbed in their chatter to notice this poignant interaction.
The moments go amiss.
She turns back to mumble something shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders then Jenna hugs her sympathetically.
He resists the urge to approach her, to seek the answers to all the questions he's been yearning to ask for too long now. But he turns away like a coward hating himself immediately.
As he paces his way to the trailer park in his usual cranky mood, sulking away like a kid, he hears the trekking of footsteps hitting the pebbled pavement behind his silhouette.
'Cory!' He sighs, closing his eyes resisting the surge to cry at the sounds of her screeching voice.
'Cory stop!' He walks on, gulping, his throat dry with emotion bubbling up inside him as she pleads for him with the tone of her voice. He knows then like he's always known, she is undeniable like never before.
He stills his feet inches away from his trailer door, a shiver chilling his spine as she graces his bare arms with her dainty fingers.
Her voice is a mere whisper now. 'Cory...'
He revels in the tingles her touch emits, and slowly turns out in a deliberate motion as she holds her breath.
A tear rolls down his pale weathered cheeks and her hands grace his face for a second, it feels like time stands still for a moment. But they both say nothing just gazing at each other in silence.
'Lea, you can't. You can't do this to me. We hooked up a couple of times during the press tours then the concerts a few years ago, but you stayed with him. You can't just, pick me on a whim then wake up tomorrow as if it meant nothing. It's not fair. It's selfish and cruel. I can't do this anymore; I can't keep waiting for you...'
'Then don't,' she whispers.
She's looking up at him with this peculiarly hopeful look that leaves him more confused then she leans up on her tip toes, her hands grazing his clench jaw, his throat dry with a phased expression painted on his face.
Her arms circle his long neck, fingering his thick russet hair, her lips nibble his and soon they're kissing full on with him pulling her up, hands gripping her petite waist, lips bruising to leave them ripe, red and rosy only to go back ducking on the other again like an ample addiction they cannot fight no more.
Her legs brace his waist, her hells cupping his round firm ass as he carries her in to his little island, lips sealed, twisting and turning as his fingers run through her silky smooth locks of satin brown hair biting her neck open for him to nuzzle as she sighs content under him on the cosy mattress of his bed relishing in the love he drowns her in.
As he peppers her bare skin with kisses, clothes ripped off her irresistible honey glazed body, cupping her supple breasts as her bare long athletic bracing his broad back, her heels keeling into lower back surfacing his ass as he ravishes her hungrily tasting her sweet essence, two becoming one, he realises sometimes it's not too late to get what you want all.
Some things are worth the wait.