Hi everyone, this is my first P&P fanfic, even though I've previously written other stories. I've been desperate to get this story out there for a while, like it's something inside me that I needed to see written down. I know where the story's headed... almost! But I can't guarantee quick updates, so I'm sorry in advance. It'll be a tale of Mr Darcy's heartbreak following Elizabeth's rejection - I warn you that he may be a little more intensely emotional than normal, but it's my portrayal of him. I hope you all like it, let me know what you think.

Note: Any familiar words belong to Jane Austen and the producers of P&P - not mine sadly!

"Your manners impressed me to the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. I had not known you a month before I realised you were the last man in the world whom I could ever marry." Her eyes flashed in deepest loathing, though perhaps a little shocked that she'd actually voiced those thoughts aloud, but her voice never wavered in conviction.

He visibly recoiled as if she'd struck him across the face. Maybe that action would have hurt him less than her words, which judging by the look gracing his features, had cut him even deeper than she'd intended. She noticed him purse his lips and take a few deep breaths, both struggling within and attempting to steady himself. The anger and shock that had initially appeared in his eyes lasted mere seconds before they gave way to stronger emotions. Despair, realisation and utter desolation - his calm facade crumbled before her and she had to look away when it appeared as though he was trying to memorise her features for one last time. Almost from the start she'd written him off as an automaton, another cold, callous inbred member of the ton, but this desperate creature in front of her certainly was overturning her judgements in this regard.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him slump, his forever annoyingly perfect posture vanished, and he dropped his gaze to the ground, heaving a heavy sigh flavoured of bitter disappointment. Slowly, she felt the taste of triumph sour in her mouth. Even during his insulting attempt at a proposal, the thought that he might truly love her had never occurred to her - as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, she begrudgingly admitted that she might be wrong in that as well.

They stood at an impasse for what seemed like hours to both of them, neither knowing how to proceed, or what words, if any, should be offered at this point.

She felt her chest heaving from emotional exhaustion and her head was pounding from the stress. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and let loose some tears to relieve the tension she felt within her. But what could she say to him? Nearly all her words that afternoon were uttered in anger towards him and she felt like there was nothing more she could give.

"Forgive me Elizabeth", his voice whispered, low and shaky. At once, her eyes whipped across to his in outrage but saw him wince immediately, his already downturned eyes closed tightly, berating himself for his slip in decorum. She bit her lip to refrain from another outburst and a second later, he amended his words. "Forgive me, Miss Bennet," stressing her name, "I... I never meant to..." but he cut himself off as his voice choked a little. Elizabeth scrutinised his face as he paused, trying to recover, to muster up the courage to continue.

There was nothing left for him now. His failure was complete. First Georgiana, that sweet darling girl, his first and foremost responsibility and he couldn't even protect her. Clearly he was sorely lacking as a brother, not to mention as both a father and mother to her, in order for her to turn to that man. And now, Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, he told himself, had made it abundantly clear that he was not even a gentleman - he certainly wasn't worthy of her respect, no, not by her largely truthful estimation of his character. Everything he prided himself on, he couldn't even please the only woman he'd ever love. His heart twinged painfully at that thought. She would never love him - how could he have ever thought she would? He felt tears prick his eyes and his throat constricted even tighter as he tried to swallow. He didn't dare consider opening his mouth to say anything more in his current state, there was no way he would make it through another confession, not now that his heart had been cut open and held out for her to dispose of it as she wanted. But she didn't want it, his voice echoed in his ears. But it didn't matter to him anymore. She could throw his heart of the ground and crush it with her dainty foot and it wouldn't make a difference.

There was no use pretending he had anything more to live for. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her, to wrench his eyes off the floor to gaze at her. The coward in him wanted to avoid the anger that would no doubt be swirling in her gorgeous brown orbs, preferring instead to remember them as they were before he brought her hatred to the forefront, glittering with life and laughter and love, though not for him, his voice traitorously added. His body molded itself into a perfunctory bow before he even realised what he was doing.

Clearing his throat harshly, he steeled himself, "Forgive me, madam, for having taken up your time. And accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." As his cold words sounded through the room, her admonition rang in his ears. His strength was quickly sapping away as he managed to make his way outside, careful to avoid her piercing gaze, which had already led to his downfall. The numbness within him began to set in and once he was sure he was out of view of the Parsonage, he reached out for the nearest tree. He braced himself against the bark for a few seconds, before finally allowing his body to sag against the trunk. He folded his arms around his knees, drawing them into his chest as he stared off into the woods, hunched over and drawing in shaky breaths. Feeling something trail down his cheek, he reached up and felt the damp seep into his finger, vaguely becoming aware he was crying.

Letting his emotion and regret leak out with his tears, he tried to steady his breathing. What was he to do now? He couldn't face her anymore, not after his foolish proposal and inadequate display of love…

So, what'd you think? I'll try to update soon...