Title: Holding Arms
Author: Lamia
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish Michael Vartan was... sigh... This is purely for entertainment purposes... R/R!
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In the midst of all the madness that was the CIA office, of all the madness that was my life, I saw her. Frustrated by all the dead ends I was turning up on, all the enemies disguised as friends, I turned around and I saw her. Dripping wet, mascara running, and achingly beautiful. I was startled, because here she was, in the middle of the CIA office, instead of sequestered in some nondescript cinderblock warehouse or not looking at each other on the pier. She was here, looking right at me. And she was crying.
I stood up and went to her. How could I not? I am bound to her, to all that she does, to her fate, to her everything. I gathered her up in my arms and held her close to me as she sobbed. My arms, which she could probably beat in an arm-wrestling contest, holding Sydney Bristow as if it was all that was holding her up, keeping her together. It still amazes me to no end.
She was crying again. Holding her to me, feeling every single sob wrench itself from her too thin frame, hearing her breath hitch, feeling every single tear soak into my jacket, I felt my heart break into a thousand microscopic pieces. How many times must she come to me like this? How much pain can she really take before she won't bounce back up again? She's been through so much, much more than I ever will, even in ten lifetimes, and she never ceases to amaze me with her appearance an hour later, as if nothing happened. But something always happens. Someone's always getting shot, ending up dead, or someone's always betraying her, some awful secret always being revealed, someone always causing her pain. It's as if the universe was content on taking out it's fury on the angel that is Sydney Bristow. And all I can do is stand by and watch, helpless to do anything. All I can do is wait until it's all over, until she comes to me, sobbing and heartbroken, and all I can do is hold her in my arms while she cries the world away.
Sometimes I wish that we could just run away, the two of us, find a place where the world can't find us, where the universe will leave Sydney alone, so only I can have her. We'd live our lives together, grow old together, and I'd never have to hold her in my arms again while she sobs away the world. I'd never have to see her eyes tear up, hear her breath hitch, see her heart break time and time again. With me, she would be in safe hands. For now, though, I guess I'll just have to settle with her being in safe, loving, and strong arms.
Author: Lamia
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish Michael Vartan was... sigh... This is purely for entertainment purposes... R/R!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
In the midst of all the madness that was the CIA office, of all the madness that was my life, I saw her. Frustrated by all the dead ends I was turning up on, all the enemies disguised as friends, I turned around and I saw her. Dripping wet, mascara running, and achingly beautiful. I was startled, because here she was, in the middle of the CIA office, instead of sequestered in some nondescript cinderblock warehouse or not looking at each other on the pier. She was here, looking right at me. And she was crying.
I stood up and went to her. How could I not? I am bound to her, to all that she does, to her fate, to her everything. I gathered her up in my arms and held her close to me as she sobbed. My arms, which she could probably beat in an arm-wrestling contest, holding Sydney Bristow as if it was all that was holding her up, keeping her together. It still amazes me to no end.
She was crying again. Holding her to me, feeling every single sob wrench itself from her too thin frame, hearing her breath hitch, feeling every single tear soak into my jacket, I felt my heart break into a thousand microscopic pieces. How many times must she come to me like this? How much pain can she really take before she won't bounce back up again? She's been through so much, much more than I ever will, even in ten lifetimes, and she never ceases to amaze me with her appearance an hour later, as if nothing happened. But something always happens. Someone's always getting shot, ending up dead, or someone's always betraying her, some awful secret always being revealed, someone always causing her pain. It's as if the universe was content on taking out it's fury on the angel that is Sydney Bristow. And all I can do is stand by and watch, helpless to do anything. All I can do is wait until it's all over, until she comes to me, sobbing and heartbroken, and all I can do is hold her in my arms while she cries the world away.
Sometimes I wish that we could just run away, the two of us, find a place where the world can't find us, where the universe will leave Sydney alone, so only I can have her. We'd live our lives together, grow old together, and I'd never have to hold her in my arms again while she sobs away the world. I'd never have to see her eyes tear up, hear her breath hitch, see her heart break time and time again. With me, she would be in safe hands. For now, though, I guess I'll just have to settle with her being in safe, loving, and strong arms.