Author's note
So I'm taking a lot of my old drabbles from when I wrote a ton a few years back and revamping them to fit the pairings I love to write now. My hope is that it'll spark some new ideas for some new material and potentially inspire me to sit down and write more often.
This isn't beta'd except for by my eyes.
Whoever guesses the person in the picture from my lackluster, purposely cryptic description wins my eternal admiration.
Enjoy. xx
I don't know how I got here but my feet brought me to his building, up the four flights of stairs and to his door. I had other friends, other people I could go to but my feet chose his door, my hands chose his face, my lips his as I pushed him inside his apartment, kicking the door shut behind me.
"I'm broken."
Whispered words and heavy breathing, coming in gasps like puffs from imaginary cigarettes.
It'd been years, years since I let him touch him, since he'd had me in the back of the FCW arena whenever he damn well pleased. And I likedit. Couldn't wait for him to take me back to his place at every chance we got. Skin against skin, tangled limbs. It's all we were in our warped world of rookies.
"Fix me, please fix me."
I struggled to put all thought of my loving family to the far brink of my mind, just out of reach. I was selfish and I knew it as I let him lay me on his bed, let him kiss me; let my clothes adorn his floor.
I let everything spiral out of control as we fell into an old, familiar rhythm, like riding a bike, you never forget no matter how many lovers later.
Fleeting thoughts of a family I was ruining with soft sighs and fluttering lashes, no, no. This wasn't my fault. She-she pushed me to it, over the edge and I accepted the fall, spread my wings but couldn't fly, merely fell into bed with an echo-eyed stranger; a lover I couldn't remember.
"Take me away."
"You'll just leave when you're done," grunted replies to wishful words.
"I'm not as pretty as I was."
Eyes bore into mine and I have to break it, let my head lull to the side only to catch a glimpse at a frame, a picture screaming 1000 words. Screaming every bad name his pretty eyes can think of at me. His pretty eyes and curled lips, long hair pooled around his shoulders, tucked behind one ear where Wade is pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. A rather endearing moment caught in time, a light flush of embarrassment from the receiver but pretty eyes and curled lips nonetheless. Not sign of shame, or regret, or remorse, or dishonor. I knew a thing or two about dishonor. But those pretty eyes and curled lips knew only love. A love I could never-
No. No.Eyes squeezed shut; I can't see what I can't have. Can't face the truth of it. But those pretty blue eyes echo in my mind.
"You're happy," I gasp, eyes spring open as it hits my stomach.
Did he hear me? My mouth goes dry as I claw at strong arms that don't belong to me.
"Wade!"
Hips stutter, used, I'm used up, nothing left but the hollow mold of a lover, of a father that can't go home anymore because my name fell from someone else's lips as he bit down on my shoulder.
A whirlwind of images as I struggle to pull on fabric that can't hide the strong scent of sex. My fingers tremble as I grab the frame, fingers dusting lightly over the glass as Wade curls into the sheets with regret sweating off his skin.
I can ruin my own life, but when is it okay to ruin another's?
"I love him," A shaky voice and eyes that won't look directly at me. Sunlight cascades over his bare skin. When did night turn to day?
I merely nod because I don't want him to love me anyway. I don't deserve it.
The frame slips from my fingers, shattered glass on a hardwood floor as I turn and leave.
Heavy steps for a heavy heart.
It's cold but I can't be bothered to care. I'd rather the cold sunlight as my weary companion than the thick air of knowing looks and unsaid words.
I can't face a family with theses hollow eyes and scarred skin. I've been created simply to destroy everything I touch and those blue eyes still echo in the back of my mind the entire way home. A memorized path for tricky feet to never forget amongst lies.
I want to ruin him. Want to watch those pretty blue eyes cry as I stomp on his heart because it's just not fair he can have what I can't! But all they echo is happiness. A happiness I can remember, a fleeting memory I can never have back.
I stand at the door and adjust my clothes. Donuts are not an apology but the happy children bouncing at my feet as soon as I walk in are enough of a distraction to try and hide my shame. A worthy stop for a man in my position: sugary breakfast to rev the children up and drive my wife up the wall. A much needed distraction so I can slide up the stairs and into the shower. So I can wash off his smell, rinse out his taste before I'm forced to embrace her again, to kiss her. My own wife a burden I brought upon myself.
But none of that matters anymore. I don't see the same behind lidded eyes anymore. All I've got is an echo of those damn pretty eyes.