A/N Don't own any of the characters in GX…
Hope you enjoy, this's my first attempt at a GX story, AND my first attempt at Fanfiction- and the first thing I've written in years, so please, let me know what you think.
The song is a 60's one... and I don't own that either, currently, I'm unable to recall the name or the artist of the song. Please enjoy.
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There was no ignoring the looks he was getting, from waiters, and from the other people in the resturant. He knew he didn't belong in a place like this, with flickering candlelight, dark red, and polished wood, roses on every table.
Maybe it was his baggy, dirty jeans, or his big boots, or his sleeveless jacket, his mucsles, or his dreadlocks. Or maybe it was because he was alone. There had to be 30 people in the resturant, all couples, celebrating anniversaries, or on dates, or just enjoying eachothers company, or families celebrating birthdays, or graduations.
But he was alone. He had no woman sitting opposite him. Though he had a good reason for coming to this place and there's a good reason he didn't have a woman opposite him, he told himself bitterly. Despite the awkwardness, despite the discomfort rising in his chest. He had a reason.
And every time he recieved a dirty look, he had to bite his tongue to refrain from yelling his reason, or rudely replying to the dirty looks.
Another couple were led into the resturant, and suddenly his great-awesome-idea didn't seem so awesome or great. He tried to hide behind the pissy little menu, composed of salads and expensive desserts.
His eyes followed the couple's progress through the tables- unable to leave that warm, familiar face.
The couple were seated a few tables up, and to the right. He lowered his head, chiding himself for coming here, for thinking this was a good idea.
What were you thinking? He cursed himself, glad he had ordered nothing but a glass of water- never mind that he couldn't even afford the cheapest meal here.
Once he was sure the couple were deeply concenrating on eachother, he stood, and quickly hurried out of the resturant, shattered hope weighing heavily on his shoulders.
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Another time, another place, I see that old familiar face,
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He was walking through the park, when he saw that old familiar face again, he ducked his head, moving quickly, shoulders tensed.
He had wondered why he saw that warm familiar face everywhere he went, and had now decided it was so the universe could mock him. Remind him of what he had lost, what he could never have again- what had never really been his. He looked up, finding that face in the crowds easily.
He debated on going over and catching up and talking about old times- and then decided that no, speaking to that person could only make the pain in his chest worse. It would only remind him.
So he turned away, and strode out of the park.
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And I try hard to catch your eye.
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He was walking down a narrow road, boots scuffing on the cobblestone road, heat beating down on his back and neck. Even though the sun had gone down hours ago, heat still leaked from the ground and sky, trapping him in the center, heat baking him slowly from the inside, sweat running into his eyes.
He staggered, dropping onto some steps, leading onto a large, open cafe, with a large dancefloor bordering on the beach and sea.
He looked to the sound of the music, which was rich and fast, oriental, Spanish, maybe. The tables had been pushed back, and couples where dancing, some better than others.
Familiar laughter made his chest tight, his eyes searched the dancefloor. Where that person was dancing- surprisingly, very well, to the fast, rich music.
He smiled, watching that person- the smile faded from his face when that person began to dance very closely to their date, he began to lose control when the music changed, to a more racy track, and that person laughed, unable to keep up with the moves as well as before, shoes clacking on the dancefloor.
Large skirts were swirling, bare legs- and that person nearly fell over, laughing louder, grabbing their partner, and pulling them closer, that persons legs disappearing with every swirl of the large skirts.
Then they moved to the beach. That person's shoes clacking loudly for a second on the cobble stones, and he had a quick glimpse of that persons familiar smile, before he stood from the steps angrily and walked away.
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Another road, another mile, I see that old familiar smile
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When he next saw that person, it was in a smoky bar, with low lights and cigarette smoke heavy in the air. Not a place he had expected to see that person.
He was there because he had heard the girl performing here was very good, so he had come to listen, and try and drown his pain.
What he hadn't expected, was to see that familiar face. That person was with somebody else this time, the first few times, that person had been with the same person, but this time, that person, sat with somebody new.
He forgot the girl, the music, the smoke, even the drink in front of him. He was unable to pull his eyes from that familiar face.
He was about to do something about it when that person turned his way- he froze, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise- unable to breathe or move.
But- that person- looked through him, as if he wasn't there.
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But you'll be with somebody new.
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He sighed, lost in the long, narrow streets, the white walls. Somehow, he had gotten turned around, and now, the further he went, the more lost he got.
He turned, looking down all the roads, hoping something would tell him which way to go, which way was out- he had had enough of this- of that person- of everything. He wanted to get out of this stupid town, get off this stupid island, and get back to things he new.
He was about to scream angrily, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, turning him around.
His scream died in his throat- all the blood rushed to his feet, then back up to his face.
That person-
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Another night, another day, I'll see you standing in my way.
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"...Hey..." He said slowly, choking on the word.
"Are you alright?" That person asked, familiar face puzzled.
"I'm fine, thank you." He said shortly- resorting to his last natural defence, knowing that the others would not be enough. His only chance was to get that person to leave. So he did what he did best, he was rude, angry, rash.
That person nodded slowly. "How've you been?"
"Good. Yourself?" Short, clipped sentances, then maybe he could keep the pain from his voice.
"Great, thanks. You lost?"
"No."
"Want to meet up later? We can talk."
"No."
"You sure? You don't look-"
"I'm fine!" He snarled.
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I'll stop and say Hello, my friend.
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That person raised an eyebrow. "What're you doing here, anyway?"
"Same as you, I expect." He snapped. That person looked at him, worriedly.
Then, a warm, accented voice yelled that persons name.
"Look, here's my number." That person had quickly, writing something on a peice of paper, and handing it to him. "Call me, alright? You don't look so good." That person said gently.
"I'm fine, just tired." He said slowly. "You look really good." He flinched inwardly at how that sounded.
"Yeah, well, I'm doing great. Call me!" That person turned away.
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Another place, another time, you tell me you've been doing fine.
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He stood stock still, paper clenched in his hand, that warm voice yelled that persons' name again, and that familiar face turned away,
"I'm in town for another two weeks." That person said over their shoulder.
He nodded slowly. "...I'll call."
That person smiled softly, nodding once. "Go straight, and you'll get to the town centre." That person advised him. He nodded. Then, that person walked down a side alley, towards the voice.
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And walk away from me once more.
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He staggered, dropping the bottle of cheap whisky, it smashed on the cobblestones, sending the last droplets of whiskey into the cracks and dust. He staggered on, a hand trailing on the wall for balance, mourning the loss of the whisky, his head started to bang with every step he took, every heart beat.
He fingered the paper in his pocket, with that persons phone number. But there was no thought on calling that person. There was an unshakable desire to dial that number, and hear that persons voice, but he wouldn't- couldn't.
His boot caught on a raised cobblestone, he heard boots clacking on the cobble stones quickly- but didn't register the sound, he was too busy falling.
His eyes closed, body prepared for impact- when he fell into warm, strong arms of someone who hadn't been there a few seconds ago. He smiled, in welcome realisation that he knew those strong arms.
He looked up, into that persons face, his smile widened, the bitter whisky had turned all his pain to pleasure.
"Hey." That person said softly, helping him stand, and right himself. "Are you alright?"
"'m fine." He muttered, stepping back from that person. "What're you doin' here?"
"Looking for you."
"Why?"
"I... wanted to see you. You didn't call."
"What about her?" He shot back. That person looked confused for a few seconds.
"Bella?"
"Yeah- Bella." He said the name like it was some dirty word he didn't like. "What does she think about you walking around in the middle of the night?"
That person looked at him, face shocked. "Now, wait a sec-"
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I try to run away from sad regrets,
The bitter wine won't help me to forget
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"You know, after all this time, I'm glad that I'm not your type." He said brutally. That person stepped back, boots clacking again on the stone.
"...You're forgetting something, mate." That person said flatly. "You broke it off."
He paused in thought. And remembered that day, when that person was leaving- he had seen no point in them trying to continue their relationship- so- yes- he had finished it.
That person stepped closer again. "Speak to me. Tell me what's wrong. You're killing yourself, you've changed so much-"
"Go to hell!" He pushed that person- the most important person in the world to him, away angrily. Then he turned and ran through the winding streets. After a few seconds, he heard that person running after him. He lurched to a stop, turning, anger bubbling inside of him.
That person stopped, and stared at him- just stared.
"Leave me alone. It's too late."
"No, it's not. It's not too late- it's never too late- just listen to me-"
"No! I hate you! Leave me alone! I hate you!" He yelled angrily.
That person froze. "...what?"
"I hate you!"
That person looked away, jaw clenched. He saw that persons eye close bitterly. "Alright, then. If that's..." That person trailed off, then cut one last look at him, before walking away. "I'm sorry."
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That I locked up my heart
And threw away the precious key.
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He walked away from that person, concentrating on the path ahead of him, using ever ounce of control he had to not look back.
That persons' last words to him rang in his mind. I hate you!
Is that how you really feel?
Why? Why do you hate me? I'm sorry if I hurt you… But you hurt me too…
Bella's words to him earlier, when she told him she wouldn't be seeing him again, until his heart was free, repeated over and over in his mind.
"Never let go of those you truly love."
Damn you. He cursed that person angrily. Why do you have to make it so hard?
We came so far together, didn't we? We fought through so much together… and now we've just given up- without even a token fight?
"Damn." He paused, looking back now, the road was empty. "I knew it would happen… I knew… once you were gone, I'd wish I'd held on." He sighed again. "You bastard."
He debated on going back, and finding that person again- but wise words from his father held him still.
Never pick a fight you can't win.
He sighed, and turned back around, before continuing down the road. "I'm sorry… but I can't fight you on this anymore… This is one fight I can never win."
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Another time, another place, I see that old familiar face,
And I try hard to catch your eye.
Another road, another mile, I see that old familiar smile
But you'll be with somebody new
Another night, another day, I'll see you standing in my way,
I'll stop and say Hello, my friend.
Another place, another time, you tell me you've been doing fine,
And walk away from me, once more.
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