A/N: I love writing about Dasey, so here's a sad, little fic. :) Although I love that cheerful Dasey banter, I just couldn't get this out of my head.
This fic was inspired by the song "In My Place" by Coldplay.
How Long Must You Wait?
I shiver; the air was cold out here. Snow blankets the entire landscape that stretches before me, moonlight casting a silvery glow to this fairytale world. Sighing, I watch my breath create a puff of fog in the air. I pull the blanket tighter around me, and turn around, lifting my eyes to the only lit window above.
He's up there now with his girlfriend, and it's her—her—who's in his arms. It's her who he kisses. The caress of his long fingers, the touch of his warm lips, are hers. Meanwhile I'm out here alone, cold and forgotten.
How long must I wait for him? It is a question that haunts my mind, and the answer remains permanently aloof.
It starts to snow, and suddenly I'm not sure if the water on my face is from a stray snowflake or my own eyes. In the long run, though, it really doesn't matter.
And I'm running, fleeing, stumbling through the magical night that no longer holds magic for me. When you're alone, the world forgets to remind you of the good. All you have is darkness. At least, that's all I have.
I'm several blocks down from my house when I realize that my feet are bare. I never even put them on, I suppose. Sighing, I trek back to the house, knowing that frostbite won't help my situation.
The sky blinks down at me, each star a diamond figurine in a place of wonder. I don't belong here, either.
My feet are red and raw by the time I enter the house. I was scared, I was scared—tired and underprepared. But I wait for you.
The memory floods my mind; I try to resist, but I no longer have the energy to fight it….
****
"Derek, can I talk to you?" she asked, chewing her lip and willing her heart to calm down.
"What's up?" he wondered from his bed, not bothering to look up from his hockey magazine.
She entered his room and shut the door. Realizing that she was shaking, she knew that she was scared, that she wasn't ready for this. But would she ever be?
"Derek, I—I have something to tell you," she whispered, not meeting his eyes.
"What?" he grumbled, lowering the magazine. "Hurry up and spit it out, I don't have all day."
"It's just that, well, I know we fight a lot—"
"No, really?" He smirked at her, running a hand through that wild, copper hair of his in a way that made her catch her breath.
"Well, despite that fact, and the fact that the entire universe seems pitched against me… I just wanted you to know that—" She cut herself off as the girl entered Derek's room. His girlfriend. His very blond girlfriend.
"Hey, sweetie," the blond chirped to Derek, tossing her hair over her shoulder and gazing down at him alluringly.
"Hey," he replied, a smiling lighting up his beautiful face. She slinked into the shadows as his girlfriend rushed to him and kissed him full on the mouth, her hands tangled in his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist.
Casey left as quickly as possible, waiting until she was outside in the winter air until the tears came…
****
Yeah, how long must you wait for him? Yeah, how long must you pay for him?
My tears come anew as the memory concludes in my mind's eye. As if my nightly torment isn't enough, now I have to put up with knowing that the girl is in my place: with Derek.
The moon filters down through the kitchen window, and then Derek and his girlfriend come down the stairs together. Derek lets her out the front door, then spots me as he turns to go back upstairs.
Please, please, please. Come on and sing to me. To me, me.
"Hey Klutzilla," he says by greeting, but he sends me a smile as he saunters into the kitchen. I wipe away the tears from my cheeks as he digs through the fridge and gets some left-over cake out. "Want some?" he asks me, gesturing to the dessert. I smile, nodding.
We eat in silence for a moment; he's in a good mood after—being with her.
"So what have you been up to?" he wonders, licking a chocolate chip off his spoon.
"Not much," I reply, giving him a watery smile. Because I understand now. No matter his reaction, I had to remain silent. Here, there were lines that I couldn't change.
Still, in my dreams, I knew that I could go back. And he'd be there waiting for me, with that trademark smirk of his, that devil-may-care charm, that look that he keeps just for me.
"Well, I'm off to bed," he states, sticking his spoon in the sink. "Wanna wash up for me? You'll probably re-wash everything anyways."
"Sure…" I reply, staring at his back. His red-brown hair has turned blacker in the dim moonlight, and the contours of his face are lined in a silver silhouette.
"Great, thanks, Case," he pinches my cheek on the way out, and the touch sends a shiver tingling down my spine, feeling like fairy dust on my skin. I watch him go.
If you go, if you go, leaving me here on my own, well… I wait for you.
A/N: Sorry for the downer, guys. :) It just needed to be written—sometimes you just need a little Dasey angst.