I stared out over Los Angeles, the shimmering lights of the city. There was a cool breeze that ruffled my hair and stroked my skin. Behind me, the flames of the fire pit flickered lazily. I had been staring at them, an empty bottle marking the place where I'd been sitting. That was before it felt like there was something was grabbing and tearing at my chest. I had stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony, hoping that I could get some air. However, as I looked out over the city with the wind caressing my hair, my lungs just felt like they were burning and I couldn't get enough breath. With the house in darkness behind me, I felt so lonely. My eyes stared welling up and I cursed myself for being so weak. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew Angus MacGyver well before we started dating. We worked together at DXS and then the Phoenix foundation, our relationship forming slowly over time after Nikki.
That didn't change the fact that I was sitting with one of most beautiful views of LA, and I was sitting there alone. I spend my days being analytical, in control of every action and every decision. Yet, here at home I've lost all control, handed it over to MacGyver to do with what he will. I'm content with that, I trust him and I don't want it back.
The longer I stand there the more I feel myself slowly going numb. It's like my emotions have been hijacked. I let out my breath slowly, a controlled expulsion of the air that seemed to be stuck in my lungs. I could still feel Mac's lips on mine, the ghost of a feeling. Even though I'd finished the bottle, I could have sworn I could still taste him on my lips, I couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard I tried. The blonde haired, blue eyed genius was more addictive than nicotine.
I couldn't even blame him for leaving me here, alone. He was called into work, doing his thing to protect the general public. Sometimes I did worry that he would get sick of me, that I wouldn't be smart enough or interesting enough to keep his attention. There were days when I woke up alone, and went to bed alone, in the Queen -size bed that we were meant to share. There were times I thought about leaving, after all it is better to leave than to be replaced. Those thoughts were fleeting, the memories of the good times, the soft touches and secret smiles that we shared replacing my worry.
My phone pinged, the screen lighting up from where it was resting on the deck. I picked it up, scanning the sender ID. I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips when I saw the name Mac preceding the message. 'Just one more night and then I'll be back' it read. 'The mission is nearly through.' Even in the middle of a mission, one that wasn't a cake walk, he stopped to think of me. Sometimes I was surprised that this genius could ever love me back. But I'm so glad. His love was addictive, once I got a taste I could never go back. I was in deep and hooked worse than to nicotine.