YAY! Depression time! Not really. I'm only kidding...kinda? I dunno.
If you ask me, I'm overly hyper. But I feel like writing something totally fucked up, so I'm going to write something that's totally fucked up.
I own nothing.
She laid in bed, staring at the man next to her.
The man who'd been her husband for three years.
The man who she would hurt if he ever found out about her midnight outings.
…
He sat at the table, staring at his wife of a few weeks.
The woman who'd been so kind to him.
The woman who he would hurt if she ever found out about his affairs.
…
Tonight was just another Friday night.
Another Friday night where they'd meet in secret.
To be honest, she'd always loved Shakespeare; especially 'Romeo and Juliet.'
…
Tonight was just another Friday night.
They talked about nothing specific over dinner, and then she was be off to bed.
That's when he left the house, after making sure she was asleep.
…
She hopped out of bed, making sure her husband was dreaming peacefully.
Gathering her jacket and her favorite necklace, she slipped out the door quietly.
She wouldn't make a sound. She didn't need anything to make her more ashamed of herself than she was every night.
…
He walked to the forest, every step weighing down on him.
He carried his stetson in his gloved hand, letting the moon illuminate his silver hair.
He sat down on a log, waiting for her to show up, just like every other Friday before.
…
When she got to the Forest, she walked down a certain secret path, the same path she walked every week.
She met him in the same spot she always did, and immediately, they began their weekly routine.
...
He offered his hand. "Chelsea, may I have this dance?"
She graciously set her hand in his, and his fingers closed tightly around hers in a vice grip, one that will reluctantly be let go later.
He placed his free hand on her hip as she placed hers on his shoulder. He wasn't wearing a vest tonight, she noticed. Just his black shirt.
They began to move in a waltz type of motion, each counting every step in there dance.
"What a shame, you got married," he said, his usual cold voice softer toned, just for her.
"Vaughn, I wish we had found out earlier. I wish. I wish." She let a soft sigh escape her lips, and then hid her face in his chest to avoid letting him see her cry.
They continued to dance.
"If I hadn't have married her...," he whispered, more to himself than the brown-haired female in from of him.
"It's not your fault. It's mine. I shouldn't have married Mark. I shouldn't have figured you hated me. I shouldn't have. I should have told you my feelings. That side of the bed could be yours. That could have been...our house. And it's all my fault," she stifled a broken sob, not letting more than a few tears escape her blue orbs.
"I shouldn't have thought it was over. You could have...divorced. And it's all my fault." He sighed, resting his head upon hers.
They continued to step to the natural sounds of crickets chirping, trees blowing in the breeze, and other animals rustling in the bushes.
Finally, they were done. It hadn't seemed like a long time, but they couldn't stay longer anyways. They had unsuspecting people waiting for them at home in their nice warm beds.
They stood there for a few minutes, unmoving.
Neither of them wanted to let go; they wanted to hold on forever. They wanted to be together.
But alas, they knew it was past time for them to let go, and oh so reluctantly they did.
They walked out of the forest together, being sure not to stray too far from the shadows in case anyone might be out at this time of night.
Finally, at the intersection to her ranch and the road to East Town, they bid each other farewell.
He placed a light kiss on her lips, which she returned, a sad smile making it's way onto her face as another tear escaped.
He wiped it away, and placed another kiss on her forehead. She returned that with one to his cheek.
And then they parted ways.
…
She walked back to the ranch, careful not to make any noise as to wake the dog up from his cozy shelter in the stable.
When she opened the door, she built up much tension holding her breath; praying it wouldn't creak.
Then she walked across the floor towards the bed, placing her necklace in the very bottom of her beauty box and her coat on the back of a chair on her way.
She laid down once again, ashamed of herself as she stared at the poor, innocent man before her.
And then she drifted off to sleep.
…
He walked away from her, trekking back to his home in East Town where his wife, Sabrina, waited for him in her subconscious state of mind.
He shook his head, mentally hitting himself repeatedly.
When he got in the house, he took off his cowboy boots and placed his hat on the side table next to door, and then made his way silently to their bedroom.
He laid down next to her, silently hoping she'd not hate him too much if she ever found out one day.
Then he fell asleep.
…
However, in both their dreams, they lived happily.
And neither of them could wait until the next week, where they'd dance until midnight again.
So, by fucked up, I really just meant weird?
I dunno. And don't ask where I got the idea. It just popped up.
And in case you couldn't follow along, here it is:
Chelsea thought Vaughn didn't like her like she liked him, so she married Mark. From there, Vaughn thought it was all over. Chelsea had noticed his sudden depression, next to the fact that he left in the middle of the wedding. She confronted him, and that's where they confessed. But not thinking ahead, and about a certain thing called divorce, both of them tried to move on. So Vaughn married Sabrina. But they found it wouldn't keep them away, so now, every week, they have their little dances until midnight.
I know, it sucks, right? Awh well. It's 2 AM, and I've not had coffee at ALL today. -pout-
Review. Tell me if you liked it. Hated it. Whatever. Just review.
