Author's Note: Wow, it feels so good to write again. After a year with no computer, it really is great. So here's to the Stars concert I'm going to in a month…
One More Night- Stars
"No, I can't. I can't, I can't, you know I can't." The slurring redhead is so familiar, but her face is slipping away from him once again. They kiss again, a sloppy, longing kiss, because he can't make himself speak. He runs his fingers through her hair, and wraps it around his hands, and she pushes him away. "No, stop…" Her words come out slow and indistinct. His fingers raise up, brush her freckled cheek tenderly, and somehow they've made their way up the unlit stairs without collapsing.
The bedroom is just as it was since the last time she left, bed unmade, dishes and clothes strewn about, and for just a moment, she remembers the time when his things were kept neat, when they'd been happy, when he hadn't hurt her. But it fades, and it's back to ruining herself, losing her dignity, feeling the pain one last time.
She chuckles against his mouth. "You always did keep it colder than a dungeon in here." And he chuckles too, but it's not so funny. She can't let herself go without a fight. The straps of her dress have fallen, and he's pulling her closer. Her last restraint- "No. I can't…" Weaker than any attempt she's made, more hopeless. "Please," He begs her. "You know I can protect you. I always have. You know, I always have…" He mumbles this reassurance into her neck, but she doesn't feel protected, doesn't at all feel safe.
And the night begins, and they're taken away, lost in themselves. Perhaps it is great, fantastic, but they would never know. They can hardly tell what they're doing, where they are. It is quick, and rough. He grabs her back, the first thing he can reach, and she cries, and it's not pleasant. It's from suffering, hatred. And she's holding back, and she's hiding, and she's disappointed. And he's heartbroken, and he's sorry, and he's in love. But she doesn't care, and he doesn't care, and even without words, they know. And for the first time all night, they see each other. Those eyes that used to scare her, used to mesmerize her, used to control her, she looks into them with only one emotion, and she says, clear and distinct, "I wish you would die." And he knows, and it hurts, but not so bad he supposes. But these words, they've broken his heart. And this is the end, this is the last time.
And she takes from him, she takes every last thing she can, and he gives, because he loves her, and he owes it to her. And she hates him because he hurt her, and she hates him because she knew he would, and she hates him because he did what all the others did, and she hates him because she fell. And he deserves this, she knows he does, she knows it. This is the last time they'll see each other, and they know. They know they will never, can never, speak again. This is the last night, one more night, that's all they can spend.
But in the end, she's got nowhere to go, and he's got no one else, and they've got nothing. And they lay there in silence, and they don't know where to go from there, because they've got nothing left to give and nothing left to lose. And so, finally, he whispers "goodbye," and touches her shoulder, and she's asleep far away from him, and he lets his fingers linger on her shoulder blade because he knows that's the last time he'll ever touch her.