Nice Boys
"Nice boys talked like gentlemen and dressed appropriately."
(PG) : no warnings. Andy/Claire, Peter/Claire if you read between the lines.
Follows the AU of "Five Years Gone," although it's technically AU of an AU. XD
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Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love--start to create a life together. Boy gets hurt. Badly. Only, the choice is whether it'd be by the girl's hand (break his heart) or the phantom hands of another (break everything else).
Andy was a nice boy. One you could take home and with a near-crooked smile (the crooked smile belonged to someone--different) he'd instantly win your family over. A safe, harmless choice of a guy who's honest and won't ever leave--won't ever make you cry (it's 2AM and you're blotchy faced, bleary eyed). Maybe he doesn't make your heart beat a million times a minute by a simple look (someone else, someone else), but it was worth it. After all, he's a normal guy who makes you smile and all you ever wanted was a normal life.
Right?
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You've left Sandra behind (a ring on a pillow--no photographs, only a memory of happier times for a boy who now smiles very little) and you're now just Anonymous, drifting about in the dark alleyways of Sin City.
He comes over and sits next to you (he's your hero again--even if the hiding place is questionable) a rough face and a pair of rough hands that are now on your shoulders and you suddenly feel like that pressure that once felt reassuring and comforting is now like the world -- and you are no Atlas (although you got an A in geography). The lights flash in the background, the techno music plays and you feel your heart race in time with the beat as he stares into your eyes to make sure you are alright--a small comfort in such a strange place.
The feeling passes quickly, but it comes and goes just like he does.
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You've been counting the days since you ran and you're finally twenty-one now, but even as you legally ask for a drink, all you can see in the bar's counter is a small, blonde cheerleader from Texas lost in a sea of lights. He comes out of no where and you've come to expect this--it's his form of a birthday gift. He squeezes your hand and whispers into your ear promises of a better future, but with a crooked smile reminiscient of better days gives you a teddy bear and you laugh for the first time in a long, long time and for a moment you really do feel like that small, blonde cheerleader from Texas.
And it feels good.
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Unbeta'd. Written 5-10-07, so it's old, yes.