Post "Greece's Pieces."
Duncan stared out the window with a blank expression on his face.
He couldn't sleep. Not only because of Owen's roar of a snore and Tyler's constant mutterings of "creeps chasing after Lindsay" and "attack of the chicken pot pie," but because a raw feeling of intense guilt was stabbing him endlessly inside of him. It didn't move from its spot, but as he thought about what he did and his ex-girlfriend's heartbroken face after she confronted him, the stabbing intensified.
"Damn it," he whispered to himself.
It was actually quite shocking to see that emotion appear on her face. She was a strong person—that he knew and pretty much everyone else. Rarely would you see her look so vulnerable, ready to break into pieces by a single touch or even a single word. He knew she tended to hide all of her "unnecessary emotions" because she believed showing such emotions would show how feeble a person's state of mind was. She was good at it, too. But when he saw that tragic look, he could've sworn his heart immediately stopped.
He kept a façade, though. She was well-informed about the bravado he usually hid behind. He too tended to hide all of his "unnecessary emotion." It was one of the qualities they shared even if it was a horrible one. He pretended to not care at all about how much he broke her—but it wasn't on purpose. He merely did it because he was tired. He didn't want to deal with her anymore.
He stood up, stretching his stiff muscles. He shook off the numbness in his legs, but he couldn't shake off the numbness inside of him. He stomped on Owen's colossal belly, ignoring the fact that the action didn't stop the loud snoring or even wake up the big oaf. Along the way, he picked up Tyler's hand and shoved his thumb inside of it, ceasing the inane words he was muttering.
"Oh! Gracias," he heard Alejandro say exasperatedly.
Duncan headed inside first class casually, unafraid of getting caught. He heard some light snores and the occasional murmuring of "psychotic banshees" coming from the guy who knocked him out.
He growled. Note to self: lock Cody in the confessional with Sierra, sporting two shiners.
A voice in the back of his head said that he deserved it.
He ignored that.
He walked down the aisle. He saw Sierra hugging Cody like a pillow with everything wrapped around his frail body. It was amazing how the guy managed to fall asleep like that. He continued on and saw Heather sleeping peacefully. He saw a satisfied smirk on her lips which he couldn't understand. He shrugged. He saw Gwen all snuggled up to the side of the plane. Her eyebrows were furrowed as if the guilt was giving her nightmares.
Sorry, Gwen, he thought sadly, for putting you into this crap.
Then he saw her. The girl with the heartbroken face. The girl who messed up is life and he himself, especially. The girl who drove him nuts. The girl who gave him mixed feelings. The girl he once stole peanut butter with.
The only girl he ever had strong feelings for.
Aforementioned girl was staring out the window with an expressionless face. Although it was dark, the moonlight shone on her face. She clearly had bloodshot eyes from all the crying she did earlier. Her hair was messy, sticking out everywhere. Her clothes were wrinkled. Her right hand was laying on the arm of the chair with a writing utensil on it. Crumpled sheets of paper were strewn around her space. One of them said "KILL DUNCAN." But there was one that caught his eye. It was written really tiny just underneath his capitalized name.
Why?
The guilt started to punch him inside now.
"What do you want?" her hollow voice asked.
"Can we talk?" His tone was quiet. It bothered him.
She scoffed. "What the hell are we going—?" she began icily.
"We need to talk. You know it; I know it. Let's talk. You want answers? I'll give it to you." He didn't have the time to argue with her, and he certainly didn't want to hear her yell at him about something that didn't interest him. He wanted to get this done and over with.
After a while of contemplating, surprisingly, she leaned over and brushed all of the crumpled paper on the seat near her to the ground. She resumed her original position, though he could see bits of fury and sadness buried under the seemingly lack of emotion.
Tentatively, he sat down. He made sure he was on the far end, away from her. He felt like he didn't deserve to even be within a foot near her. And he didn't want to be close to her. He might see something on her face he didn't want to see again.
Time passed by slowly. He listened to the soft breathing of his ex-girlfriend. At times, she would hiccup and blow her nose a bit. She would sniffle. From his peripheral vision, he saw her turn to the side, wiping something from her face.
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.
Stab. Stab. Stab.
PUNCH. PUNCH. PUNCH. PU—
"I don't regret kissing Gwen," Duncan started, staring outside the window like her. "I don't."
He saw her hand on her lap twitch.
He sighed. "But…I regret doing it behind your back. I regret kissing Gwen when I was still with you. It was wrong; I know that."
Silence greeted him.
"I'm sorry for doing that to you. I just—Gwen is—it's just that—damn it, Courtney!" His voice got louder, making her body move a bit. "I can't explain it, okay?"
He scooted over. The armchair was blocking him. He pulled it up. He saw Courtney moving away from him, pressing her side against the wall. He rolled his eyes at her and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. Her body was almost pressed up against his, but her face was turned away.
"You better look at him, Courtney," he demanded.
She didn't.
"Look at me."
Still, she didn't.
"Fine. Have it your freakin' way. But you better be listening to me, 'cause I sure as hell won't repeat myself. This might be the last time I'm speaking to you. This might be the last time I'm this close to you I could feel your heartbeats. So I'm gonna take advantage of this time, all right? Listen—that's all you have to do.
"I just can't take it anymore. I can't be with you. I'm tired of all of these limitations. I can't—I can't live well when I'm with you. It used to be so easy, but…it's different. I changed, you changed. That spark we both felt…it's gone. I mean, it might still be there, but I can't find it—and you can't too. Your damn lawyers can't, either." He grabbed her hand. "It's hard to explain, you know? I can't…say this right. I'm confused, and I don't like it."
He noticed that her face was turned to him. But her eyes were staring at their hands.
"You're special, Courtney." He chuckled despite the atmosphere. "One…nutcase of a woman, I'll tell ya that. You're different. You're strong. You're beautiful. You're someone that's hard to handle and hard to find. I was lucky to be with someone like you."
He saw some tears poke out her eyes. He gulped. He took one shaky breath.
"You were the first girl I ever really, really liked. I don't know anything about this love crap, but I'll tell you the truth—it was damn freakin' close. And hey, you'll always be that one special girl. I'll still care about you. Hell, I care about you a lot."
The salty liquid poured down slowly. It wasn't the type that was nonstop, though.
"You're special," he repeated. "And I'm sorry for making you cry and acting like such an asshole earlier. That was one kick, though." He grinned, looking straight at her.
The corners of her mouth went up. "It wasn't, wasn't it?" she whispered.
"Yeah, it sure was."
She played with his hand, having a calm expression on her face.
He missed this. When they would have these rare quiet moments together, he would feel totally at ease. But then all of a sudden, they disappeared along with the spark. He still didn't know if the spark disappeared. He knew it was there. Maybe.
"You're still Princess, 'kay?" Duncan said softly.
She looked up and smiled at him. She nodded.
He stood up and so did she. She pushed all of the paper on the ground with her foot to the side. She directed her dark eyes to his and embraced him, wrapping her arms around his middle. He automatically returned the embrace, enjoying every second of it, knowing this was the last. He breathed in her scent and held her tighter.
"Stay out of trouble, all right, Duncan?" Courtney said, voice breaking at his name.
Duncan smiled. "I'll try," he replied. "Have a good one, babe. Find that guy—someone who's far better than me."
She sniffled, and he felt something wet on his chest. "I-I-I'll tr-tr-tr-try…"
He felt something in his throat, something clogging up. His heart twisted around.
They let go. They had to.
Duncan placed his hands in his pocket. They turned into fists inside, wrinkling the material. He looked at Courtney, his special one, and smiled again. She smiled back—that smile that he really, really liked and rarely saw now.
"'Night, Princess." He tried to keep his voice even for her sake.
Right now, this exact moment, was when he could just walk away or take her back. It was that one line he could easily cross over either way. The line represented a dilemma which made him feel tempted to do both, especially the latter. But he couldn't; it just wouldn't be fair for the both of them.
Courtney sniffled. "G-Goodnight, Duncan."
He left.
. . .
"You look like you slept well last night," Gwen noted, raising an eyebrow.
Duncan squeezed her hand, grinning. "Well, Pasty, let's just say something happened real good," he answered back. He tried to make it sound vague or as if he was referring to the time they made out a little before they went their separate ways last night.
She grinned back. "Whatever you say."
Duncan saw everyone eating at the tables. A long table with a red holey tablecloth was draped messily over it. There were four bowls of something you put in a sandwich: peanut butter and tuna, two bowls of each. A plate filled with stale-looking bread was on the side. One kitchen knife was inside a Styrofoam cup; it had a huge amount of peanut butter and tuna mixed together, sticking on it.
His fixed scrunched up, pure disgust written on his face. He shrugged afterwards and headed off to the table. He let go of Gwen's hand and grabbed three loaves of bread. He took the knife and got a massive amount of peanut butter, splattering it on the bread. He then smashed the three breads together and bit into it.
From his side, he saw Gwen taking two loaves of bread and putting in a decent amount of tuna in it.
"You like tuna?" he asked, mouth full.
She shrugged. "I'm just in the mood for it, I guess. This crap is better than anything Chef's ever made, so might as well, right?" She took a bite.
They started to look for an empty table. Duncan was behind Gwen while she searched for one. He looked around and saw Owen and Tyler chatting on one table. Alejandro was sitting beside Tyler, peacefully eating his sandwich. Heather was nowhere in sight, so he assumed she was planning some devious plot against some sucker. Sierra and Cody were all in one corner with Sierra trying to shove a heart-shaped sandwich in Cody's mouth.
He sat down with Gwen and started munching on his sandwich. He saw Courtney sitting alone across from him, eating a sandwich, too. She was staring at the ground with a calm expression on.
She was eating a peanut butter sandwich.
Yeah, so basically this was just my depiction on what should've happened. A lot of writers did their depictions, and I so badly wanted to do one, too—especially when I just read a manga with a sad ending (Bleach; IchiRuki shipper is I).
Sorry if it's too long, too short, whatever blah. I'm too tired right now.
Anyways, I tried to make it good and all, people. It's a oneshot, staying a oneshot—don't ask for more and ask if I'm going to turn this into some story 'cause I'm not. I've got another story in mind. Plenty stories, actually.
I miss DxC. Really I do. But I can't keep moping on about it. There's always TDI and TDA filled with it.
Blah blah blah…
Done.