Summary: He's not the one who got away.
Author's Note: This is a new style that I've been wanting to try. And yes, I did use a numerous amount of parentheses, but I like it. So please forgive me. Please read and review! I hope that you enjoy this. It was fun to write. (:
Could Have
All you're left with is your broken pride, a tear-stained face, and an invitation in your hands.
(But it was your fault, after all.)
.
.
.
He's not the one who got away.
Because, if he was, he would be more important than you ever wanted him to be.
(You never really wanted him or allowed yourself to want him.)
(At least, when he had wanted you. At least, when he was in your life.)
(Because he was Castle and you were Beckett.)
You could have had him.
(The realistic truth didn't shock you, like you assumed it would have, but instead, it angered you.)
It wouldn't have been that hard. You knew from the way he stared at you when he thought you weren't looking.
(You try not to think about the time when that stare ceased. At least, when it did to you.)
He even stared like that when you were looking.
(He didn't care, but you did. Never once did you think you would miss that stare.)
But it wasn't as if you never once thought of it.
(Hooking up with him would've been amazing.)
You could've gone much further.
(You were Yin and Yang. Perfect together.)
You thought about telling him of your desires, your feelings.
(You almost did it twice.)
You never followed through, though.
(Because things happened; things got in the way. The moment had passed.)
And maybe it was for the best.
(No, not really.)
He eventually gave up, found someone else.
(It bothered you, annoyed you. Pissed you the fuck off.)
You should have known that he would have.
(But you didn't.)
You weren't prepared.
(You should have been. You should have expected it, realized it, prepared yourself for it. But you didn't.)
He could have done better.
(Could he have?)
You knew that it wouldn't last.
(You prayed that it wouldn't, wished upon a star, hoped.)
But it did, didn't it?
(Then it didn't, then it did, then it didn't, then it did.)
He was never without her by his side.
(And you were never without thinking about how it could have been you.)
You swore for the longest that he didn't love her, and you were good at reading people
(Until you weren't.)
But it wasn't like you lost him. You were still his muse. And he was still your partner and your inane best friend.
(You never thought you could be wrong about that.)
(Except you were.)
Your friendship faded.
(You tried. He just didn't come to work anymore.)
The Nikki Heat Series was completed.
(You shouldn't have been surprised when Rook found someone else too.)
He had another muse.
(He didn't need you.)
You wondered if he knew how much you missed him.
(He didn't care, so why bother?)
He came in one day, to tell you that he wasn't going to be following you around anymore.
(It broke you.)
But you didn't show outwardly how completely shattered it left you.
(Until he left.)
You wondered what the guys thought. The unbreakable Beckett had been broken. You saw their looks, heard their whispers. You may have been broken, but you were still a damned good detective. And it wasn't as if you were blind.
(Except, for a while, weren't you?)
You expected him to come back.
(But he never did.)
You saw him in the papers, watched him on TV.
(He was happy.)
(But could he have not been happier with you?)
You don't really know.
(You try to convince yourself that you didn't care.)
(But you really did.)
You heard of the announcement.
(Hadn't they broken up again though?)
It was really over, wasn't it?
(But it never was in the first place.)
Your chance was gone. The moment had passed.
(It was truly your fault.)
Now you're left with the 'what ifs.'
(And you wonder if he wonders the same.)
(But he doesn't. He's happy.)
He's not the one who got away, even though, on some days, you consider him just that.
(Because, after all, you cannot lose something you never had.)