Too Strong For Words

She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't go on like that for any longer. She felt the need to be with him, she felt it every. Single. Day. And she couldn't stand it. She wanted him so badly, and to a certain extent, she had him. But she didn't have him in the way she wanted him. He was hers, sure, but she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure that he wanted to be hers as much as she wanted to be his. She yearned for him when he wasn't there. She felt complete bliss around him. She felt she could be no happier, when she was in his presence. Her face looked like it had had a coat hanger stuck in it all night when he hugged her. When he kissed her? Well, that was a completely different story. When he kissed her, she felt every single urge one person could feel about another. When he kissed her, she felt like screaming "take me now". This wasn't just pure lust, no, this was something more. He never asked her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with. She, well, she loved him. Or she thought she did. She could never work out her feelings properly. One thing she did know, though, was that he didn't love her. Of course he didn't, who could love her? She was plain, boring, annoying, aggravating, and just completely normal. How could he love her? He was amazing. He was the hottest rock star in America. How could he, the hot rock star, love her, the normal mouse? She had dug herself into a deep hole, and had thrown her spade to the surface. What a silly girl.

She was wrong.

He gazed at a photo of her. She was beautiful, wasn't she? She was dancing about his head all day and all night. He wasn't sure what that mean. He had never felt like that before. His heart sped up around her. It sped up when he was thinking of her. So he basically lived with a permanently sped up heart beat. He had fallen in love. He of course didn't know this. How could he? His previous relationships had gone nowhere, fast. So, of course, how would he know? He loved the feeling of her bare skin on his. But not in that way, they still hadn't done that. And they had been together longer than he had ever been with someone; but that 'V' word no longer applied to him. It hadn't for three years. Yet, he didn't feel like going further with her. Well, he did; he was a red blooded male of course. He just wanted to keep it going at the same place. If she wasn't ready – which no matter what she seemed like, she wasn't – he wasn't going to make her do anything she didn't want to do. Funny, wasn't it? America's bad boy had fallen in love with the sweetest girl to live. He thought they could last for ages without a split.

He was wrong.

She used the key he had given her to get into his apartment. She picked up the few things she kept there. Left the note. Left his life. What a silly girl.

He opened the door. There on the mat was a letter. He opened it, read it, and felt himself die inside.

Shane,

I'm so sorry, but I can't go on like this. I can't describe my feelings to you, I don't understand them myself. In the long run, I'm saving you.

Mitchie

He didn't do anything to get her back into his life. He just slid onto the ground and screamed out in pain. What a silly boy.

AN: wow, this was weird for me to write, I haven't written anything as kind of sad as that, except for Breathing, but yeah. So, I'm really treating you lot. I just keep writing. Checkout the second part of my two-shot One Night of Passion Can Lead to Many Things. And look out for more in this series.