Cold fish. Incapable of friendship. Alone. Die alone. The words ricocheted in her head like someone was playing racquetball in there. She'd been accused of being a lot of things, but nothing hurt more than when he told her she was a cold fish. It hurt because it came from him; he had meant so much to her and she had never let him see it. Even when he stood in front of her, brown orbs so full of anger and hate. He wanted her to be close, wanted her to be more than just what they were. But she had forced him to see what she hated for him to see. That she was too good at goodbye. That she would never get close enough to him no matter what they meant to each other. And he had thought her heartless, not realizing that it was just her way of protecting herself.
She had been burned, so bad that the scars still throbbed and reminded her in the night that this was where she belonged. So every time he walked out, left her standing there with her own thoughts, the quicker her tears were able to dry. Because she had succeeded. She had made him mad enough to realize he hated her. He didn't value her for more than a physical component. That's what she wanted, what she knew she was capable of having. The frustration that coursed through her, the anger at herself at seeing the pain she caused him, was heartbreaking in itself.
She wondered if he thought her to be a fool ,to be stupid or new to being close to a person who loved her. But she was none of those things and no matter what she said, he'd never understand because he hadn't been where she had been. Opening up in a state of vulnerability and having the door slammed in her face bruising her pride. He'd never been so innocent just to have it ripped away without a choice. No, he'd never felt a pain like that. And he never would. Not if she could help it. Her pain would not become his no matter how much she loved him back. She couldn't, wouldn't bear it. The sadness of it, the truth of it, she'd accept it for what it was.
Calloused hands shook with fury; a rigid spine trembled with rage as it coursed through his body. She thought him a fool, thought him stupid. But he wasn't. He was smarter when it came to this. He could see the love in her eyes, feel the electricity radiate off her when he stood too close. He didn't understand why she kept leaving him in the dark. Acting like he had a choice to forget about her, to stop what he felt. But he let her walk out one last time. Demanding that his heart believe that he loved her less each time. She meant the most to him, and even though it hurt him, he had opened up to her. Given her things he'd never given anyone else. But she'd just let it roll from her shoulders as if none of it had mattered. Her mind had been made up.
She was too cold for her own good. Too reserved and shut away and he wanted to pummel the man that did that to her. That made her think loneliness was what she deserved. He knew what she deserved; warm arms that held her at night, soft lips that woke her in a morning sun. But it wouldn't happen; he'd sit in the dark until she turned on the light. Even if meant he would sit forever.
FIN
