I can't make myself be disciplined enough to right one shots anymore so I'm afraid this will come in parts. Hope it is not too fragmented.
Oh my distorted smile
Its one of her more cruelly, calculated moments when she turns up at his door all brittle and brimming with barely contained arctic cold rage. But she honestly can't bring herself to give a fuck anymore, or maybe she just feels so much she can not bare it any longer.
Both where very possible options that she did not want to dwell on. Not when this bitter and manipulative woman swaying slightly in intoxication was what most had always expected from her.
She stretches her lips into a closed mouth smile that never touched her eyes as he opened the door. The flash of surprise and then the way a weary nervousness causes the lines in his forehead to deepen only spurs her on.
How dare he act like the innocent, put upon hero when he had been the one to keep going back to her? She didn't need half a brain to understand that she had become an untouchable masturbation fantasy. A way for a leather clad alcoholic to actually feel superior, 'foreplay without the touching' as she had so acutely summed up originally.
The way he made her feel unwanted, like a dirty little secret made her equally want to punch that look off his face or to watch it dissolve into pain when she told him in great detail how his partner was currently screwing her ex husband.
"Carla, you can't be here." He warns quietly. Eyeing the bottle of something toxic clenched tightly between her fingers like it would explode at any moment. She hates the way he treats her like a chore. Hates the way she lets him make her feel small and yet she craves the way his dark eyes crawl over her form.
She needed him more than she had ever needed a drink. Healthy or not she was past caring.
Leanne was at 'work', too busy to comfort a friend who had just lost her driving license but not too busy for a quick fuck in the office apparently. Simon was down the road safely tucked up in his grandparent's home and that suited her. The child was the once person in this whole messy situation that did not deserve it and she found it difficult to comprehend his place within it.
She had the power to hurt the man she craved, and when he refused to move from the way his solid form blocked the doorway she thought viciously that maybe he deserved to be destroyed too. She did not want to be saved anymore. Maybe she never had, not when dragging him down with her would be so easy.
"Oh darling you got a restraining order against me now?" She shot back, leaning forward conspiringly.
He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another clearly disproving and a little anxious with her volatile drunken state. It makes her feel powerful and sexy because he fears the unstable strength she processes and that only means she still has some hold over him. And when under her usual façade she is swamped with feeling of utter useless it is something she holds on tightly too.
"Leanne…"He starts and falters because he has always been transparent in his lies.
"Is not here," She finishes sharply. "Neither is the kid."
She quickly renders him speechless because they both know that his protests where more about the practicality of being caught together than actually not wanting her. She understood desire. She had become familiar with that look on men's faces while still in her teens.
He swallowed and his fingers twitched and she just knew he wanted to touch her. It was almost tragically amusing. How he denied there was anything between them when he had never been known for his strong willpower. Or it would have been humorous if his rejection didn't turn her into the unstable whore in this anti fairy tale.
She thinks how easy it would be if she stopped trying to do the right thing. Thinks how with a few well timed speeches she could have him fuck her right up against the door. And it would be so easy when she was so close to throwing the person she once was away, when it actually physically hurt to care any longer.
"You a detective now?" He snaps darkly and she smirks at his grumpiness.
"Oh I'm a right little Veronica Mars, me." She says proudly and winks dramatically at him.
"Who?" He asks with a sigh.
"I will buy you the DVD's." She answers dismissively with the wave of a hand, already bored with the way the conversation wasn't going anywhere.
Whatever it was that she had set out to achieve once and for all, pop culture references had never been part of the plan.
She poked at the solidness of his chest ignoring the warmth of him through his thin t-shirt.
"Are you gonna let me in or am I going to have to find a nice park bench to pass out on?" She teased all the while absently thinking it would be a fitting end, dying of exposure because she was too drunk to find shelter. His guilt would be enormous if he turned her away now.
He holds her gaze for a long moment and she refuses to blink. Instead she lets her hatred and frustration and lust burn right through them both. She knows it will be the first of many victories of the evening when he looks away first.
"You still shouldn't be here." He mumbles in defeat moving just enough that she can slip past him but their chests still brush.
