Perfection
The title relates to a subversive recurring theme inside story. It was either that or… some gay word that was caught in the first sentence like 'thirsty' lol, that's a horrible title… hahahahaha. The girl is no one in particular.
I don't own Lost. Sincere apologizes if this contains any grammar mistakes. And that it's a bit long.
I was really thirsty that day. I wasn't thinking about anything else than the need to quench my thirst. After I'd filled my glass to the rim in the stainless steal sink, I'd walked back and reclaimed my seat in front of the laptop. The battery wasted away while my eyes were really glued to the TV set that flickered in the dimness. I hadn't even noticed how dark it was getting as time ticked by much quicker than I was used to. I took little gulps in between speeches of prosaic dialogue that never made any sense to me and bewilderment struck my face when I reached for my glass and found it was empty for almost the 10th time that night.
Something was evidently bothering me from the way I stared unfocused between both the screens. My hands trembled within my subconscious as I tipped the glass to my lips, grasping hold of the momentary feeling when the water trickled down my throat and satisfied my dehydration. I hadn't had a drink all day and this is what I was building up to, this hunger, this desire I want so badly to be fulfilled. A smooth car rumbled and skidded to a halt on the gravel just outside my room. The bright lights cast shadows along my face and I snatched the stick in hand, carefully sliding it into my pocket as he reached for the door.
He flicked the switch and swung the door shut behind him, his breathing unsteady and frightened. He threw his keys on the table, his front still faced towards the door to collect his composure and then he turned. He came back again, eyes wide with fear and penitence when he met mine and blood dripped from his hands. Thick crimsons beads fell and stained the cream carpet with a soft patter as he continued to stare, caught red handed. No pun intended.
So I looked the other way, pretended he wasn't there and that I didn't see a thing as usual. Chills ran down my spine as I tried to keep my sights off him, turning onto the laptop screen and bringing up my email service which I had already cleared out earlier that day. His breathing wasn't as ragged anymore I heard anyway, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stomp upstairs and smack the door closed without a word. I knew him well enough to know that this was a sign of his confinement at least. I think I already knew he anticipated to keep to himself for a while.
But I hoped he knew I had to come up there sometime.
After a few more hours and a few more glasses, I took each step carefully up the stairs, just at a slow enough pace to keep the boards underneath from creaking and groaning. I was seriously considering about knocking and explaining why it was I had to follow him up but I hesitated. If we were in this together then why should I still have to be treated like the underdog? I decided I had more rights than this and disobeyed all my limits I could stomach.
Whether he was prepared for me or not, I opened the door and stepped inside. The bedroom was empty, his deceptive suitcase rested on his half of the queen-size. The bathroom door lay ajar ever so slightly and clouds of steam poured out, dancing under the clear beam of light. When I peered in, he stood in front of the steamy mirror brushing his teeth, only a towel wrapped around his waist and his ebony curls still dripped wet down his back from a lengthy shower. It looked like his hands had been scrubbed raw just to be rid of the blood and a fresh array of bruises surrounded his thick arms and chest.
He caught me watching him from the doorway in the reflection and his cold expression softened with worry. He spat and rinsed before he put his toothbrush away and fixing his pure black eyes onto mine. How I loved their ambiguity so much and couldn't help return him with curiosity rather than the disappointment I had much practised.
"I would have thought you would be asleep by now," he broke the silence eventually, his voice wavering. It was his defence, his excuse for coming home so unexpectedly after hours. I didn't mind it so much; I just wished he wouldn't have to be a flawless liar. But I guessed that was alright. Because two could play at this game.
"I still would have heard you," I replied, achieving the long awaited goal of nonchalance. I would have struck him down if he mentioned that I'd never caught him all those other times before. But he didn't say a thing; his eyes somehow now smiled and gave me affection I had long been drained of for the whole night. I casually looked down at my watch, at the time, something I'd neglected to check for a while. "It's three in the morning. How come you're so late?" I asked, though I'd known perfectly well for over 3 weeks. "What's Ben making you do?"
Sayid repeated my name again louder, touching my arm lightly to bring me out of my daze. I looked around until I met his face and smiled reassuringly when he gave me an anxious glance. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern. I picked up my glass of red and had another small sip, the taste not taking a pleasant reaction to my tongue which will ultimately go straight to my head. Alcohol wasn't one of my particular friends because I never liked anything that would slow me down or bring out all my worst, spontaneous moments in life. Maybe that was one of the many reasons why I was so scared to come out to dinner that night.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I enquired. He asked me again if I was certain and I picked up on the sceptical undertones in his voice. He refused to believe me, his damsel in distress whenever I objected the idea of being poorly. I told him I was fine and elaborated on how the wine had a powerful influence over me and then he replied deviously about how he could use that to his advantage. He chuckled, I rolled my eyes mischievously, and then we fell into a pitiless silence. All around us the chatter and laughter never ends yet we burn out so quickly. Far too quickly. But just when the conversation's over, the staring competitions begin. How I ever manage to rip myself away from such a magnetic sight, I'll never know. I loved him too much to let him go, I would rather take my own life than have to say goodbye. Under the table for two, my hand snaked around my flat stomach and lightly played with the burgundy lacing. I fell into a cataleptic musing once again before I could even request for another glass.
My expensive silver heels tapped loudly against the hard bathroom titles, glossed to perfection for the very best customers. The whole en suite bathroom was a little too much, the subtle heating, the spa-like qualities of the bath, the mirror clear as crystal, but Sayid always relentlessly told me how I deserved the best. I think he always knew how self-conscious and awkward attention like this made me feel but it's giving me a chance to fit in. He just wants to make me happy, I kept reminding myself. But I didn't need endless treasures and diamonds when I had a man of such compassion standing by my side. I smiled when I happened to think of his smile. What a change, from long ago when I used to screw up my face in disgust.
I was waiting. And not very patiently as I would have liked to I might add. I was leaning against the fancy sinks and running my finger along the edge of the wall for dust. Any little flaw, chip, or deformity I could find that would reassure me that not everything was just right. Me, I was far from immaculate. Sayid came closer than anyone I've ever felt so strongly for and this apartment we had been staying in – it was almost too much to believe. You couldn't spot a single wet towel lying on the ground, within minutes; it's just gone with another fresh signature replacement hanging on the rack.
After checking the empty package again, I realised I'd been waiting mercilessly for over a quarter of an hour rather than the 5 simple minutes it required. I peered across the room and found the stick in the exact same place I left it before. It had been kept at a distance to resist the temptation and I noticed how it wasn't blank anymore, something was definitely showing up on the thing. I took a deep breath, released it slowly and calmly and started walking towards it. I grabbed it and flipped it over so I could give myself a second to prepare for either good news or bad news – depending on how any enthused woman would look at it. I fiddled with the plastic in my hand for some time before I read the final verdict.
And there it was a little pink cross staring unblinking back at me. Positive. I warned it not to tempt me, I told it to make its final decision, final and precise being of the few specifications but I still wasn't convinced. I couldn't allow it to happen. I was in denial and threw the pregnancy stick into the bin, leaving the bathroom with my spiral of indignation.
"Same again," I told the appealing waitress who brought me back one of my favourite wines on a silver tray. Just another immaculate gleaming object that was put on this earth only to spite me and my imperfections. The red sloshed and fizzed inside my glass and she took the hint, letting slip a few more drops than the usual limit. I thanked her; she smiled courteously, English not being her first language and she ran off to please more patrons.
"So what's the occasion?" I found my voice again, trying to sound very impressed by the surroundings. I should be I mean an overly priced French restaurant, fine dining, live classical pieces playing all night long and a service that won't disappoint. What more could any girl ask for of her man? He gave a soft chuckle and held the bowl of his glass, imitating my stronghold.
"Must I need one to spoil you?" A bashful smile crept on my face and he seemed contented with my reaction. Now I really knew he was lying to me, the enchanting way his eyes moved under the light to glisten, his coffee-cream skin glowed to try and dazzle me. Of course it worked, I just didn't appreciate how he could control me like that and make me forget everything I'm saying when I cross his sights. It mustn't have been very healthy for someone as easy to manipulate as me.
"I hope they give a substantial meal," I said, trying to encourage small talk to pass the time. "I haven't eaten anything since this morning." Sayid stared across from me in a quietly blissful expression I knew all too well whenever he was with me.
"I'm sure they will. But you had better not be too full." I raised my eyebrows in slight confusion and he leaned forward, taking my hand in his. His calloused touch against my moisturised skin made him feel exposed. He seemed to be a little tentative before he spoke again. "Otherwise there will be no room for desert," he finished on a disheartened smile. His other hand, which he had stuck inside his trouser pocket all night finally let go sadly and was brought onto the table to sandwich my hand between both of his. The smile disappeared from my face after that.
I stood in the brightly lit hallway, allowing the mirror frame weaved with gold to show off its modest majesty. I bit my lip and growled in annoyance as I fumbled with the diamond earrings, trying to hook the metal onto my ear. I stabbed myself repeatedly and cursed, I was obviously in no shape to go out tonight, I thought. My hands were shaking so violently and I felt so cold despite the thick black coat I had on. Once I had completed the hardly excoriating task of putting on earrings, my hair needed some tending to.
"You ready," Sayid asked in a whisper to my ear and shivers shot up and down my spine, leaving all the hairs on my body on end. He must've noticed I was nervous because he proceeded to pull my hair away from my neck and breathed into my ear, a harsh tingling sensation jumping up on me. I battered him away in protest and he gave me a cheeky kiss, proclaiming he was only teasing before rushing into the bedroom again. I stopped and scowled through the reflection at him. I hated that he was hogging the en suite bathroom all night. You couldn't get much vainer than someone like me, apparently.
I tied my strawberry blonde hair into a quick bun, fixing it into place with a few bobby pins after the 3rd attempt to do something with my thick locks. It seemed impossible around this time. And certainly on this sudden dinner party at the flash French restaurant around the corner. Sayid and I had been walking along the pleasant city venues, arms wrapped around each other's waists until he pointed out the pricey but in return, very luxurious place. I sighed unhappily, commenting on how we would never be able to pay. Then Sayid explained he could afford even the most expensive eatery in town with the money he'd gotten back from the government. After a few moments' dead silence, he then had to apologize to me for bringing it up again.
I never liked him talking about the Island. I knew there was something more to it than that but I didn't crave to know these particular secrets.
Sick of waiting for Sayid, I reluctantly walked into the bedroom to find out what was taking him so long. It wasn't like he had much to preen and tidy anyway when he was naturally beautiful in every way possible. I still find myself envying him time after time whenever we get dressed up, it puts on the pressure to look like I'm rich, smart and pretty enough to be his girlfriend. He could never understand that though. His clean suit which I had laid out for him earlier was now gone, even his shoes so he must've been ready. But he was in the bathroom, the door open just far enough for me to see him.
A frown struck my face as I glanced at the time but I halted myself from storming in there when he reached into his pocket eagerly. I took a seat on the soft double bed, made perfectly without a trace of a crease, and kept out of his eye so he couldn't see me. I wanted to know just what exactly he was doing in there. I would have been extremely let down if it was anything business as he told me it was our night tonight. Just us, he promised dreamily and I trusted him wholeheartedly like the fool I am.
My jaw dropped to the floor when I managed to get a glimpse of what tiny thing he held in his hand. It was a ring. A gold, ocean blue and white diamond-coated engagement ring. I didn't know whether to squeal in excitement or jump out the window in desperate escape, to run for the hills far away, my cheeks left mottled from the endless tears I'd shed. I was all over the place, a put my hand to my heart and bottled up any urges to scream inside and continued to keep unseen. Sayid looked up at his reflection again, plastering a look of courageousness onto his face, convincing himself he was prepared and this is what he wanted to do. But I knew deep down inside, he must've had some doubts. But it looked like he'd settled for love, popping the ring back nicely into the blue velvet box and sinking it slowly into the pocket of his pants.
He coughed uncertainly and began to walk out and I scuttled back outside of the bedroom, pretending to have just walked in. He gave me a warm smile and I grinned back involuntarily, feeling the heat build up in my cheeks. He caught me in a gentle embrace. I would be lying if I said I was feeling the love more than the fear. I'm surprised he didn't notice my heart thumping erratically on his abdomen. He pulled back and rubbed my shoulders in comfort. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.
The words caught in the back of my throat and I panicked. "Yeah," I finally exclaimed breathlessly and followed that up with a delighted smile, flashing my pearly whites. He laughed at my enthusiasm and told me that was great, his eyes full of splendour. I wasn't really surprised when he asked for 2 more minutes and suggested that I wait for him in the lobby. I nodded and hummed in agreement, my voice at a total loss now and a stupid grin still stuck to my face. I left the room in a range of intense emotions that even started to scare me.
But then I found my way back to my senses when we stepped outside into the chilly darkness. He permitted a few moments peace for us and I took the opportunity to calm myself down, look into his eyes and smile in a sensible way that wouldn't intimidate, and decide that I loved this man and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.
What I failed to realise by not going back and spying on him again, was that when he happened to pass the bathroom garbage bin, he spotted something much resembling a stick in there. Still facing up and baring the pink cross of pregnancy, because of course, I'd somehow forgotten to go back and destroy the evidence. A look of astonishment hit his handsome face and prolonged the time he kept me waiting in anxiousness. He kept me waiting but I never sensed anything was wrong. So we both went hand in hand and pretended everything was perfect. Like so many other things are.
Ah, it was too classic and cliché to be true. Ironic, wouldn't you say?
I sat at the table now, the alcohol shooting through my veins up and down and twisting them inside out. I took the glass in hand and finished off the wine within one large gulp. I whacked the glass down because my hands and arms felt so achy and weak and I flexed them and tried to get them moving up to speed by any means necessary. This silence was disturbing enough without having to feel like I was going to faint at any second.
He gracefully put his food to his mouth, almost finished his rewarding roast chicken and vegetables. His mystifying gaze would occasionally glower back at my face with a hint of concern. I was growing impatient. Whenever he looked my way, I gave him something that I hoped bear similar to a reproachful death glare. It wasn't alarming or even hurting him at all; he only returned it with more fury, like I was the one to blame. My tolerance was wearing thin like the ice I was treading on in his territory. I had hardly touched my dinner as my appetite was suddenly thrown out the window along with the honesty, what about the trust?
I suddenly jumped to my feet, towering above him. I made it very clear that I wanted to leave now before I would lose the little directive I had over my temper, much like his. "Shall we go home then?" he asked smiling but in a sarcastic tone of voice. I nodded briefly and reached into my purse but he put a hand out to stop me. "Please." I looked back down at him, confused. "This was my gift to you."
I didn't agree willingly but I let him sort out the bill. I didn't have any money with me anyway. Perhaps I'd already known that he would pay despite my sudden change of heart. Perhaps he already knew my small purse carried nothing but make-up. I didn't intend to make a scene so I grabbed his arm, his mind catching on the same notion I was and we smiled. No one could tell it was just an act, thank god. We shared compliments between ourselves and with the waiter at the door about the magnificent food before we escaped into the night, our arms still bonded together.
We didn't forget when we reached the hotel we were still clasping for dear life onto each other. Even if we were caught up in a feud just beyond our heads; we just wouldn't let each other go. I can't speak on Sayid's behalf but for me, that's what hurt the most. The fact that he was blood pumping to my heart, breath collecting in my lungs, my muse and inspiration to my brain. I couldn't live without him and I hated him so much for trapping me under his spell he was so unaware of. But I'm willing to bet anything that he feels exactly the same, even now, when he sits at the furthermost point of the bedroom from me with piercing ice in his stare. I hope he's contemplating everything we've ever worked for and been through. I hope he still remembers I'll always love him.
I opened my mouth to apologize for my behaviour but I couldn't bring myself to admit it was me who was at fault. I did nothing but wait for him. He seemed so certain. I was heartbroken when I realised he wasn't going ahead with the proposal. A number of questions urgently popped into my head, was it something I said? Was it the way I looked? Have I done something wrong? I stifled a sob from my throat and rubbed my eyes like they were leaking tears. If that's what it takes to have him back, get him to cherish me again… I'd do anything.
Sayid kept a pensive gaze on me, his eyes were narrowed and his face looked smouldering, almost dangerous. It made me back up against the wall in fear. I pushed myself up so I was sitting on the small desk and I folded my legs like a lady, gritting my teeth as my shoulder blades dug into the wood. What I would have done to escape his ruthless stare.
"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice, cutting through the silence. His eyes flickered, like a double take and his expression eased. I wondered what it could mean for someone as secretive and restrained like Sayid. He was obviously thinking, for what? I lapped my tongue over my bottom lip before I spoke again. "I didn't mean to ruin our dinner." He told me I didn't ruin anything. I should have felt the acceptance and gratitude when he said this but I didn't. I felt venom. I felt depravity. And I felt desire.
"Let me take your coat," I offered politely, shutting the main door as soon as he stepped inside our room. He didn't look at me when he told me that wasn't necessary in a brusque voice. I tried to take the thick prickly material in hand and slowly pull it off his shoulders while he was dumping his wallet and cell on the bed but he shook me off. "Please, Sayid. There's no need to be like this," I told him cautiously. He glanced at me from over his shoulder and with a wary sigh, allowed me to yank off his coat and take it to the closet. I hung it up and brushed it off. I saw him when he discreetly moved the ring into his jacket; I was planning to act pleasantly surprised when I would take it out and put him in the spotlight for once. But I felt around in both his pockets and found it had disappeared.
"What are you looking for?" he asked curiously and I turned to him. His face was contorted with satisfaction when he caught me snooping through his clothing. It was gone; he'd had it all along, safe and sound. He patted his trouser pockets to indicate he'd hidden it somewhere fresh. He knew, I thought as he smiled unkindly at me. My eyes hardened under his game. I was sick of playing.
Sayid moved into the bathroom and my eyes shot open wide when I realised I hadn't made any attempt to cover up the pregnancy test. The last thing I needed to finally break this relationship was a fucking stick lying before his eyes. I dashed in behind him before he could get a chance to close the door in my face, which just happened to be exactly what he was planning to do. I took a hand and spun him around, then I asked, trying to let down on the suspicious tones in my voice, "what are you doing in here?"
He raised one eyebrow in distrust and answered as though it would be perfectly obvious. I smiled sweetly and pushed past him, grabbing the small bin from the bathroom by his feet. I didn't look inside, but I shook it just in case the stick was still the last thing carelessly tossed in there. I jabbered on and on, making up an excuse about how it would save the maid's workload to combine the trash, considering they've been such a big help already. Sayid shrugged, apparently not interested and I left the bathroom with a look of relief.
I sat on the bed and rummaged through the trash trying to find the pregnancy stick that may have fallen beneath the rubble. But it wasn't in the bin anymore. I slowly looked toward the bathroom in contempt and found Sayid hadn't even shut the door yet. He stood in the doorway, a hand resting in his pocket and a small smirk taped to his face. He just played me… again. I resisted the urge to throw the contents of the bin at him and, as if reading my mind, he closed the door in an instant. He made my blood boil. He always had to win, get there first, and that he did.
I sometimes felt like he got some kind of sadistic pleasure out of keeping me down and toying around with me like a lovesick puppy.
"So..." I looked up at him when he talked to me at long last. "You're pregnant." I shuddered when I heard the words come from his mouth, cunning and amused. It sounded like much more of a statement rather than a question despite the stare he gave me. I turned my nose up at him and pretended to be apathetic. "You never told me," he added bitterly. Well it wasn't exactly old news to me anyway.
"I didn't imagine you'd find the stick," I answered with an irritated sigh as he held it up from over yonder where he stood. "I'm sorry, I guess I have should have made an effort to mask the verification." He scoffed at the cynic I'd become and I mocked him as a pathetic comeback. His hands crept up to his collar where he loosened his tie and undid the first few buttons of his bright white shirt. I licked my lips and tried to look away as he advanced to unclip his cufflinks. He gazed at me, furtive, because he knew I wouldn't be able to resist him much longer.
"I hoped you wouldn't find it but it was already too late," I said just above a whisper. I was surprised Sayid could still hear even a pin drop over the heart flow pumping through his ears like a bass drum.
He feigned confusion and pointed a finger lazily at me. How much I had to hold myself back from snapping it off. "Really?" he said. Pissed off, I repeated his astonish with more confirmation. "Because I was under the impression that you wanted me to find it."
"That was the last thing I wanted," I cried out on character and he burst into a sinister laugh. "You know this."
"Why didn't you want me to find out?" he asked suddenly, his laughter appearing to be just another act to get under my skin. I narrowed my eyes at him and turned my face away from him, refusing to have any more contact with that infuriating man. He growled deep within his throat and slowly started to walk towards me. I felt helpless and frightened. He felt despicable and predatory. That particular fetish just happened to be our favourite game. I stopped him just before he reached me, putting a hand to his partly-clothed chest. I tried to feel his heart thrust under that muscle, if it was still beating that is. I glared at him again with an expression that clearly said my turn.
"What were you waiting for?" I whispered, referring to the engagement and his eyes darkened.
"I was waiting for you to tell me," he replied but I could barely hear him when I felt his soft touch crawl up under my dress, up my thigh… "Why didn't you?" he finished with sorrow, taking his hand's pattern in reverse. I released the breath his stroke forced me to save and looked deep into his eyes. I put my hand on the back of his head and brought him closer to me. I wanted him so close that we would feel like one.
"I didn't want to drive you away," I admitted. He then responded nothing could drive him away, least of all his child, when he was just about to ask me to settle down with him. "I know," I said, trying to restrain myself from crying. "We just never really talked about it, you know… I wasn't sure it was what I wanted. What you wanted. I just tried to be perfect for you." He told me nothing was perfect. Our noses brushed against each other and I could feel his breathe on my face again, speeding up every passing second. He smiled, said he doesn't do perfect and we brought our lips together.
"I love you," he whispered and before I knew it, he'd already slipped the ring onto my wedding finger. A perfect fit. I glanced down and brought the jewel to my eyes, my excitement in overdrive as tears slipped down my face. It was cut sharply, the sapphire diamonds sparkled under the golden light and Sayid complimented on how it brings out my eyes. Before he could get another word in, before he could get down on one knee, say my whole name passionately and do a proper proposal, I'd already muttered 'yes' vaguely. I guess that was good enough for him.
Sayid's expression couldn't have been anymore enthralled by my decision. I was jolted back when he wrapped his arms around me and picked my body off the table. I called out in a mixture of laughter and horror for him to stop swinging me around and only when he kissed me again did he drop my delicate figure onto the bed, much resembling a rag doll. Leaving my head spinning like a yoyo and my stomach clenching in sickly sweet happiness, I thought off the bright future ahead of us. Things really couldn't have been better.
At least it all came out fine in the end. It could've been much worse after all…
Okay, this didn't turn out exactly as I planned but... ahem
'It could've been much worse after all...' lol xD weeeeird