It's those little smiles he lets loose, the ones that mean the world to her. When she does something especially cute, or when he's proud of her. Or just when he feels particularly loving.

He can pretend that nothing happened on her sixteenth birthday, but he knows it a lie. He can act like what he said to her as she stared at him with tired eyes, no sleep for God knows how long, as he told her how much he had missed working with her, and her altogether. He knows he shouldn't have said it, and was glad when he looked back at her from the dashboard of his Viper, to find that she was sleeping soundly.

The kiss as they finally wrapped her second album, was something he would never regret, ever, because he knew that for a second there, she was his, and he was hers. Their only ones. Nothing else mattered in those moments where his lip were pressed so firmly to hers, nothing else in the world could match up to that.

He still knows of those smiles he gave her, as she performed in front of hundreds, thousands, of screaming fans, giving it her all. And when he saw her playing her guitar around G Major, just endlessly strum-strum-strumming away, remembering those words he had said the time she and him were at the docks, sneakily being photographed by paparazzi, already. The chords were hidden inside the guitar, waiting, waiting so patiently, to emerge from the hollow, appear from the strings.

Everything with her was perfect, she understood him more than anyone else. More than the former Boys Attack, than the previous girlfriends, more than his friends, his family. Because she didn't try to understand, it came, because they were meant to be.

Like Mickey and Minnie mouse. Romeo and Juliet. (Only older, and minus the suicide) Yin and Yang.

But they were different, because they were them. Tommy and Jude. Jude and Tommy.

And as he sat in the back seat of that black car, driving away as she screamed his name, begging for him to come back, nothing could match the heart ache and sorrow that he felt. And yet tears refused to fall. The pent up scream in him would not emerge. Anger. Sadness. Heart break.

That's all it was, the whole time he was where ever he was. Hits, album ratings, he missed it all. White Lines playing over and over again in his head. Because she had wanted so bad to be with him when she wrote it. And now it was his turn.

Tommy and Jude. Jude and Tommy. That is what they would be. But it would never be the same. When he returned. If he ever did...


Because Australia is so far behind (-growls-) I've not seen the latest episodes. This is just a drabble from after Tommy leaves. And also, this was written a long time ago. Like, the end of last year. I just brushed up on it...