Author's Note: Yes, it's short, but it's still good (yes that is a biased opinion), so please give it a chance. And as a B.T.W. this is in my heart a Brooke and Lucas fic, but pick a couple, there are no name's. I wanted people to be able to relate it to whoever they love from OTH.
Disclaimer's Note: I own nada, not that I mention anything.
Bleeding Love
She'd heard the warnings, cried the tears, and felt the pain. Yet, still, she found herself coming back to this place so many times. So many times she walked willing into his embrace only to have him throw her right back out. She knew he only came to her when he grew bored with the things he already had. And she knew she'd continue to go. There was no question, she loved him, but what was truly heart breaking was she knew he'd never loved her and never could.
………………………………
The rain fell in through the open window in her bedroom, sprinkling the floor with a light mist. Their bodies moved together in perfect unison, they could feel their passion coming to a pique and they clung to one another, her fingers in his back, and his arms around her small frame. The sounds of climaxes sounded out, filling the almost-perfectly quiet room with the evidence of the rest of the world needed to know what they were doing.
She lay breathlessly beneath him, his body on top of hers, their chest moving together, damp from a mix of sweat and rain. Neither dare speak for fear of ruining the moment. Only, there was no moment to speak of. No true feelings existed between the two, at least not from him. He'd gotten what he'd come here for and she knew it wouldn't be long before he was gone and she'd be left alone to feel the coolness of the wind and the wetness of the rain and her tears.
He lie there longer than she expected, but she was not bold enough to ask why. If he wanted to stay, with her, then she'd never speak again. If that was what it took for him to be hers, she'd do it. She'd give up her never-ending rambles and her bold, stinging insults, the things she used to mask her true self from those who would use it against her. She'd give it all up for him.
Soon she's pulled from her thoughts, by the feeling of his body moving against hers, only this time he's leaving. And before she can speak the warmth of his body is gone and he's standing above her. Only he doesn't even look at her as he gathers his clothes. Slipping on black Calvin Kliens, then dark-washed jeans, but his search his halted. His shirt. He can't find his shirt. She watched as he searched for it and continued to ignore her.
"To left; behind the vanity." Her voice rang out, emotionless.
"Thanks." Was all he said in his own emotionless tone, still not looking at her. He reached for it, plucking it out from behind the large wooden piece and pulled it down past his head, smoothing it out.
She looks down and then away at the open window and the trespassing raindrops. Damn. She's going have to clean that. She should probably close it, but she's too tired to care. So what if the house floods. Hopefully it will wash away everything she done her. But she knows it won't, she knows those memories will never leave…
…but he will.
She continues to stare an unreable expression plastered over her flawless features, only something isn't right. She can feel it. She can feel it on her skin and it doesn't take long before she knows. It's him. She turns to look at him and finds herself meeting his gaze. She stares deep into the ocean blue orbs and he stares back just as deeply into her clouded hazel ones. She doesn't know what to make of what she sees within them. She's know him for so long, stared into his eyes countless times, only this time there was something there. Something she'd never seen, at least not from him. But before she can solidly put a finger to it, he's leaving. And she watching his back as he heads for the door and just like that he's gone again and so is what she saw.
Now her eyes and her chest are heavy and she can feel a wet warmth make claim of her cool cheeks…