The Softest Of Melodies
Song: Beautiful Disaster –Kelly Clarkson
One-Shot…
The cold biting frost nipped at her nose as she sat on the frozen swing. The muffled crunches of snow was all she heard around her. Silently she swung her feet forward and backwards, a swift motion in progress. A foreign feeling of emptiness enveloped her as she allowed the drift of her previous movements take her swing in a silent rhythm. The etched frown that had made its way on her face felt cold and engraved.
Involuntarily she shivered as she remembered the last scene that had unfolded in this exact place.
"I—I want to believe you; truly I do. But this—us, isn't going to work out." She stammered, her amber eyes flecked with spotting tears. "I honestly, like you. A lot. But you've lied to me," her voice broke. "—Too many times."
His blue and green eyes avoided her helpless gaze as he coldly lifted his stiff body, moving away from her.
"And to think I was going to tell you I loved you," he uttered as he shuffled away, hands in pockets.
And you just watched; helpless and defenseless.
Her frown was more pronounced now. Even though it had happen years ago, she can still remember that very day.
Abruptly and immediately, those same bubbling and warm feelings that had once invaded her body, once again entered her without permission. The same hopeful feeling of optimism; charging forth.
Quickly she got up from that swing and began sprinting—even with her heavy Ella Moss jacket still in place, and Burberry earmuffs and gloves, she sprinted and sprinted. Irrationally, she kept running through the town.
Returning to her car, she hit the gas peddle and drove forth towards that old address.
Out of breath and still panting heavily from that movement, she speed-walked up the icy stairs and unthinkingly knocked her numb hand against the French doors.
Upon answering the door a lady that you immediately recognized as his mother answered the door with a look of exhaustion gracing her lips.
"Massie?" She incredulously asks, her tired blue eyes big and unsure.
"Hi," Massie confirms.
"He's inside." She immediately knows. Brushed past his mother, she makes her way through that old familiar house to his room.
She hears the softest, most sweetest heart breaking melody being played in his room. He had always enjoyed composing music on his wooden ivory grand piano. He treasured it like it was his baby.
Not wanting to disturb, she tip-toes to the doorway and listens patiently with lulling eyes.
The melody gave off a bitterly sad aura and she couldn't help but wonder who it was about and what caused him to play it.
By the end of the song, her eyes were streaking with tears. Brushing them away, she got up from her perched spot against his door and opened it silently.
"Massie!" His blue and green eyes, elated and so much more brighter than she had last seen. Forgetting his anger towards her, he ran to her arms and hugged her tightly. "Massie." He breathed against her neck, inhaling her Chanel #2 perfume.
"Cam." She whispers, hugging him tighter.
"How've you been? What made you come back? Why are you even here? I missed you." He rambled, kissing her head.
"Away," she admitted. "You made me come back." She allowed. And smiled against his shoulder, inhaling his Drakkar Noir with as much desperation as he did towards her. "And I'm here because; I needed to hear your voice. See your smile. Smell your scent. Be with you."
Pulling back from her with wide eyes, he looked thoughtful, pursing his lips and thinking thoughtfully. He looked adorable, she decided.
"You're the only one for me," she quietly murmured. "I've tried dating—trust me, they're all dopes that are typical guys…not like you."
He laughed melodically and touched his lips to hers. The sparks flew clichéd-ly and for once in a long time, her smile was too big for her face. Her cheeks were hurting from being so stretched. And her eyes were saucers that would not contain that bursting happiness—pure joy.
Bliss.
"I guess that means you dumped Claire." Massie stated, her eyes searching for answers in his.
"Yeah. I did." He ran a hand through his hair tiredly.
After years of tucking away these feelings, she had finally allowed that wall that she put up to break down.
::::-:::-::::
Or at least that's how she imagined it to be: him welcoming her back. But that's not what she did in the end; no. She just sat on that swing and used her rational thoughts to persuade her to back out of that charge she had wanted to run.
Until it was too late.
Author's Note: Review, please.
-J.H.Q.S.316
