Lover's Spat, an Invisible fanfiction
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Nick Powell watched Annie Newton sleeping from the adjacent lazy chair, his head swimming under a wave of annoyance and regret. Over half of a year had drifted by since they first began dating (after several awkward dinners). But their communication skills were certainly none the wiser.
Their most recent skirmish brought Annie out here.
Earlier on, troubles in their relationship had just stemmed from Nick's surplus of time with his bandmates and none with her. After their heated debate, rehearsals ran earlier and closer to home. With the exception of Pete, the stress of significant others on practice time was a shared experience.
But happiness had been short-lived, mercurial for the both of them when Annie found another qualm to unearth.
It was some infinitesimal fault Nick never thought to fix. The way he tapped his foot during breakfast. His long after-work showers. They fought over it, and fucked the anger away. Made up. Quarreled again. And it went on in rapid cycles. Until Nick imploded underneath the mountain of pressure, and told her he was going insane. He really was.
Nick accepted that they were dysfunctional from start to finish. Even she admitted he had to be 'the dumbest fuck in the world' to fall for his attempted murderer, but it didn't seem like Nick ever had a chance or choice. As soon as the beanie had come off and he saw her dance, saw HER, the deal was done. He was helpless against curly hair. But things were never this...painful before.
Annie shifted onto her side, nuzzling the crimson throw pillow like she knew how it made him fall apart. His fallen angel was even prettier when unbound by their chaotic daily life. Nick knelt on the rug beside her.
She arched with limbs akimbo. Maybe Annie was waking up.
"Five more minutes, mmkay?" his girlfriend murmured. False alarm. Nick laid a kiss onto her cheek, stroking back her summer-streaked tresses.
She craned her neck to his touch as she would in wakefulness. And a familiar sound broke the silence, but damned if it were a good one. Choked sobs rippled through the darkened room like gunshots.
Annie huddled into herself, her tears followed closely on their heel.
"Nick," she rasped quietly. "I'm sorry, so sor-...please."
His girlfriend's murmurs grew more pained as she dreamt, grasping for something which she could not seem to reach. He was frozen.
"Need...Nick."
Nick gathered her up into his arms to carry her bridal-style. His walk toward their bedroom was brisk, so he was not surprised that Annie was coming to. And he wasn't going to stop until they were somewhere lit and comfortable. With a flick of his finger, bright incandescent light cast long shadows across the floor.
Now his girlfriend was awake with eyes rueful and dark. If he had glimpsed a sliver of fear in them, it vanished behind the walls she chose to erect.
"Why'd you wake me up, Nick? What are you doing, how long was I out there? What are we doing in here?" The last question held an implied 'together', but he chose to ignore it and answer all four in no order of importance.
"It's 2:15 in the morning, you've been out there since 1:20 and I would not leave you out there crying," Nick said, his eyes dropping to the angry crescents that nails left on her arms. But he stayed silent for privacy's sake.
What did you dream of that made you act so scared?
Annie pressed her hand against his chest, and demanded that he as her boyfriend let her down. Nick shook his head and plopped onto the bed, her in his lap.
"You can fight me to keep me out all you want. But that won't stop me worrying, or fix the real problem. Which you have yet to tell me."
"This is ridiculo—
"SO IS the fact that now we argue every other day and now you're sobbing in your sleep," he interrupted. It had to be said, and she stopped struggling enough for him to draw her closer.
For all their nearness they could have been separated by entire continents. It killed him. It had been for weeks.
"Annie," Nick pleaded. "…Please let me in. I never ask much of anything or anyone, especially you. But I deserve to know. What is it? What can we do to fix things?"
Annie sighed and let him tilt her face up so their gaze could meet, ocean blue on coffee brown. There was a penetrable quiet in the room for a moment until, "It isn't something you did. It's not going to fix itself overnight. The problem isn't even one thing."
"Annie, you have to tell me what's wrong!"
She retracted in unease and he took it down several notches.
"I'm not psychic, okay? I can't just hack into your brain and see what's got you so troubled. I wanna know what's hurting you so much, making you lash out at me."
Nick squeezed Annie tenderly. "This isn't...good for us."
His girlfriend fiddled around with the pendant against his chest—her mother's, a tarnished silver rocket. He fleetingly remembered when Annie had first given it to him. It was a perfectly ordinary day, and they'd been out together shopping. She had slipped it into his bag without him looking. Nick mustered up the courage to ask why, and only earned that ambiguous smile. It meant something, the passing on of that necklace. He didn't find out what until much later.
Annie would rarely act this reserved and unsure. She was so lively, boisterous. He loved every facet of her, even the parts she was embarrassed to show. Eight and a half months ago, Nick Powell never would have thought they would reach this point in their relationship. Double that time, and he might have laughed himself to death if someone said they would exchange two words.
Annie's legs curled up against him in a protective gesture. A thin heather-gray tank rode up at her petite waist, more petite than she had previously been. Eyes red-rimmed yet sharp avoided his like the plague. But she was still determined enough to keep him out.
"Tell me, please," Nick asked desperately, leaning down to kiss her shoulder as his fingers nudged her hair aside. "Please?"
"Nick, this won't make me talk..."
She shifted to straddle him gingerly. The change in position tempted a moan from deep within his throat. She sighed, running her fingers through his mussed hair.
"I'm not trying to."
"Nick," Annie exhaled softly.
Yes. The walls are falling.
He nuzzled her neck, and laid feather-light kisses across her collarbone. As she relished her lover's caresses, Annie Newton contemplated her current situation. She had fallen so damn deep and that scared her. No, what terrified Annie was the looming uncertainty. Such openness created fear. Love left Annie bitter and simultaneously vulnerable. So she layered herself with brambles that were damn near impossible to remove. A real-life Sleeping Beauty. Annie could count the number of times the armor had NOT been there—at twelve, when she lost her mother to lung cancer.
At sixteen when Marcus Bohem walked up to her after school. Again at seventeen, after he had raised his fist to her for the first time, and hardly the last. Then at eighteen, when Marcus had called her beautiful and dropped her off at home three hours later, bloodied by rage that still left her shrieking in her sleep. That much Nick had been told.
Yet he was the exact opposite to that loveless existence, the counterbalance: he was so compassionate and emotive, so beautiful. Love shone in his soulful cerulean eyes and off-kilter smile, and spurred his embraces when she needed consoling. Annie could not tally how many times she awoke up in Nick's arms, after being cradled in the middle of flashbacks. She never stopped being grateful. But along the way, perhaps she took it for granted.
Annie did try. Busting ass as an IT intern and part-timing at the local coffee shop wouldn't stop her from going to nearly every gig. Or staying up late with him to hear him describe his day in a sleepy daze. And his problems were as well. He needed her support just as much nowadays. Over the months, things began to deteriorate (both of their issues interfered and combined). Annie wanted to say 'fuck it' so many times. Strike out on her own, make the departure quick and painless. But she loved Nick so goddamned MUCH. It almost hurt to feel how vastly her heart had grown for him.
It took Nick's kissing the tip of Annie's nose and eyelids for her to realize she had been crying. And on cue her text message alert sounded, 'Don't Take It Personal'. Fitting, but embarrassing. Annie ignored it.
Nick reached around her to the nightstand and shut it off. "I can't take any more of this. I don't get—"
"Don't get what? That it's hard for me to open up around you? That shit isn't always sunny?" she yelled, disentangling herself from him. Her catharsis was boiling over the rim of containment.
Nick's face lost its mellow semblance, looking less like he wanted to kiss her and more like he felt ready to implode with frustration.
"That's water under the bridge. I still love y—"
And Annie Newton finally broke. 20 years of crashing waves against an emotional dam.
"WHY? WHY ME, why bother loving ME? I'm fucked-UP! I fucked YOU up!"
"You think I was EVER perfect, Annie?! Jesus, you're ou—"
"And I almost killed you! In more ways than one! You heard me say…"
She swallowed an enormous sob. "That...that I ruin everything I touch. I know you were there."
Nick saw no point in denying that he did. Fury and disdain would have had him agree with her words. Yet now...
"This isn't any different," she cried, burying her face into his shoulder.
His girlfriend was pushing him away. Because Annie thought he deserved better. Because she didn't see what he saw, and she thought it would do him good to be rid of her. This had the reverse effect in all honesty. The constant bickering and anger, façade or not, was destroying them both.
Annie must have assumed the end of their relationship to be that simple. But it was not. At all. Nothing about this or them could ever be.
She continued to cry and he tightened his arms around Annie till she hardly had any tears left.
"Annie," Nick whispered, searching desperately for her gaze. She slumped against him.
"No. Don't look at me like that," his girlfriend protested, shaking her head in defiance.
"Annie—"
"STOP!"
Nick's fuse finally burned down to the wick.
"ANNA, YOU fucking stop!" He roared and tightened his grip on her shoulders. Her eyes widened.
"Stop keeping me out behind this wall, stop thinking that you're hurting me because you know best for me! I'm fucking SICK OF IT. I'm here because I want to be, you're not doing me any favors! You are my girlfriend, I CHOSE you! Not to fuck you over but because I give a shit!"
That feral fire once in Marcus' eyes reignited in her boyfriend's, and she fought to withstand her pre-flashback tremors.
"Shit," Annie snarled. She crawled out of his lap and folded her arms defensively. It was more to hide her fear than out of anger as she deserved to feel.
"That's part of the reason you're scared. Sometimes, and I know because you look away, I remind you of him," he managed as tactfully as possible after his outburst.
Her head turned swiftly toward him and Nick knew his answer.
"That shows I need to change. I can't be him to you. I won't die, or hurt you like he did. Intimidate you."
Nick's hands clasped her waist with tenderness. Her gaze was conflicted, as one hand lifted to his cheek.
"You already did both, you know," Annie admitted.
Her boyfriend inhaled sharply, but she added, "The dying part is all me but, the hurting's something we can take care of together."
Nick gave her a tentative look.
"Do you still want me, Annie?" he asked with reddening cheeks. Annie bit her lip, nodding.
That was the night we kissed in the moonlight
Her boyfriend sighed and pulled her closer, placing his forehead to hers.
"I want you, Annie, no matter how bad things get. I want you to be vulnerable enough to cry, and scream, and be imperfect without feeling like I'll tear you down. I want you all. So LOOK at me."
It was romantic, but didn't feel so right
Nick ran his finger down her tear-streaked face. And she did.
"I'm sorry, Annie. For the hurt, me or no. For losing my temper. I think that...not having you around would cause more pain that if I did. And I would want it, as long as you want it too," Nick confessed quietly. Annie released the breath she had been holding, and hastily wiped her eyes; he smiled softly at the matte black nails.
'Cause something was lost then, today it's replenished
But it was you who cleaned up my messes
"Things can get worse from tonight on. Something could happen. Maybe it'll be neither of our faults this time. You know that."
Her boyfriend gazed at her in the manner that seemingly left no part of her soul hidden from his eyes, no flaw unnoticed. She hated and loved that ability of Nick's. It made explaining less necessary but also left her feeling vulnerable. It made her punch him in the cafeteria when they first officially met.
"Yeah. And I know that it's worth the risk, and I'm always optimistic when it comes to you."
"I just couldn't, still kinda can't get why someone like you would ever want me. Ever even glance my way, you know?" Annie said quietly, insightful brown eyes wishing for empathy.
And oh, oh my God, just please don't ever let me go
Nick scoffed. Her brows furrowed, but then his lips touched hers and he murmured deeply, "How? Annie, you ARE broken, and tormented, and violent, it's true."
Annie closed her eyes as their mouths collided again. "But," he said between kisses, "you're the most beautiful female on the planet to me."
Her gaze had begun to sparkle, so brightly that Nick's heart did back flips. It became serious again when she said, "I'm still sorry."
Yeah, sometimes we're high and sometimes we're low
"I am too. We have our differences, or else we'd just grow bored."
He cupped her moistened cheek and thumbed it softly. "I love you. I'll let you know it more."
"I promise I'll work on not pushing you away. I'll let you in…unless you keep taking those hour-long showers. I...I love you, too. Really."
Put up with me and I'll make you see that things are better when you're with me
"You're welcome to join in whenever you feel the need; I mean, conserve resources and all that…" He raised an eyebrow, and Annie found herself laughing near hysterically with all of the pent-up emotion.
Let down your hair
Let down your hair
"Oh my God," she gasped, clutching one side in giddy agony. "Mmm. Feels so goddamned good to laugh right now. But that offer sounds lovely."
It was then that Nick hovered over her, and as she rose to meet him, lust was burning in his hooded eyes.
"You know," he mentioned lowly, "I've been thinking about starting to take showers before bed."
Nick nipped at her shoulder and the thin straps across them. Annie caught his lips on their ascent.
"We could just skip the later and get dirty right here and now," she countered, her husky voice two suggestive octaves lower. Nick lived for that.
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair
Their mouths met in a gentle kiss of passion and reconciliation. Hands wandered to parts daylight did not reach, as Nick panted against Annie's neck.
"I think... I'll take you up on that offer, Miss Newton."
"Good, Mister Powell. We're making progress already."
~Fin~
Author's Notes: This came from a place deep in my imaginings, when I remembered being in a relationship and the trials and tribulations of having one. I didn't plan to write about The Invisible, but when I saw it again the opportunity was too good to miss. BTW, I used some of the lyrics from the Passion Pit song 'Cuddle Fuddle'.
Thanks for reading.
-Fanatic For Fanfiction