a/n: I've shocked even myself...this story's main character is Jai Wilcox! GASP! Now, it's not that I hate Jai per say..but he gets in the way of the AuggiexAnnie fluff sometimes and so that pisses me off a little. However, i've been thinking how it would feel to be Jai..to have feelings for a woman who doesn't see you as anything more than a friend or coworker. And thus, this fic was born! It's darker than some of my other pieces (but definately not as creepy as Auggie stalking Annie's window haha). I hope you all enjoy! Please review...your thoughts (or even critisms) are important to me and make me a better writer. Even flames are helpful in most cases. Anyways, thanks everyone!
Disclaimer: Covert Affairs and its characters belong to USA Network (characters welcome). All rights reserved, as always. I'm (sadly) not making a profit off of these fics. I just like playing with the characters sometimes..especially Auggie..yummy heehee ;)
You Deserve Better
"We're just good friends, Jai."
Your words are made to sound comforting, but I can hear the underlying annoyance—they're the same words you use every time I ask about your relationship with him; your words are meant to make me feel better, but they only cut through me like knives, because I know they aren't true. And because I'm not good with expressing my feelings—I haven't been, for a long time now—all I can really do is laugh it off as if I think those words are true; you'll never know that those are the exact words that are slowly killing me inside.
I may be optimistic, but even the most optimistic people can tell when things become hopeless—but I can't, won't, give up, not on you. I've never met somebody quite as unique as you, never been so in love with somebody before, not even when I was a teenager and I fell in love at the drop of a hat. You're different somehow, unique, truly one of a kind. You stole my heart and my soul the minute I met you, they're yours to break—and I know, you will break them, whether it be intentional or not. Because I know he may be blind, but I'm not. I can see the way you look at him.
What do you see in him, anyways? He's just a guy, a blind guy—he'll never be able to protect you the way that I want to, he'll never come running to your rescue when you're in danger, he won't be there to catch you when you fall, won't be there for you when you need him. He's too young—too childish—to understand how women work; he doesn't know what will make you happy, what will upset you. He won't lavish you with roses and kisses and love the way I would. Why him? Why not me?
You constantly tell me, Joan, Stu, Danielle, Arthur—anybody who asks, really—that you're "just good friends", but we aren't blind; I can tell that you have feelings for him, that he holds your heart in his hands. Why do you trust him with it? He'll only end up breaking it; he doesn't understand that your heart needs constant care and love the way I do. Trust me with it instead. I can give you so much more than him—I can give you all the love in the world. I won't be afraid to express my feelings for you the way he is.
I laugh with you and I may seem happy at work every day, but you'll never know that I'm slowly dying inside, that I spend each night thinking about you and crying over the fact that you'll never truly be mine. You constantly tell me that you love me—just not the way I would like—that we're "just good friends"; you use the same words that you use to describe him, but I can hear the distinction in your voice. It lacks the passion with which you would describe him. The meaning is completely different when you use those three words to describe me, because in this context, they're actually true.
Your excuse isn't going to work forever; people are going to start noticing things. I already have. I'm not blind or stupid like your friends. I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. I see the secret smiles the two of you exchange when you think that nobody is looking, the way he grabs onto your arm to lead the way and the way you smile slightly when he does it. I see the way you gaze into his eyes even though he won't ever see you. I see the blush that always adorns your beautiful face when he says your name, or the way he blushes when you touch his shoulder or his arm. I see the way you two take each other to the ground during your sparing practices, the way you two use it as an excuse to just be close to each other without raising suspicion. I see the way he kisses your cheek or your forehead or your hand or your temple—and it kills me a little every single time.
I can give you so much more than him, so why do you choose to be with him and not me? I would treat you so much better. I would shower you with love, care and attention. Why do you care so much about him? You're better than that—you deserve better than that. I could give you that. I would never push you or shove you. I would never let myself hurt you like he does because I understand how a girl should be treated.
But you never even gave me a chance. You never gave me so much as a second glance. You've had your eyes on him the entire time. I flirted with you blatantly, showered you with love, paid so much attention to you, and you never even batted an eyelash in my direction. What does he have that I don't? I just don't understand what you see in him, the man who won't ever be able to see how beautiful you are. I see you. You would be the centre of my world, not just something to pass my time with.
Is it the thrill of a secret relationship? Is that it? I could give you that too. I just don't see what you see in him—every time I look at him, all I can see is a childish blind man who clearly doesn't deserve you. He isn't even capable of taking care of himself—what makes you think he can take care of you? Because he can't, not the way I wish I could.
I watch you, did you know that? I watch you every day. I watch the way you twirl your gorgeous blond hair around your fingers and sometimes I wish I could touch it, feel the soft, silky strands, but I know, they're not mine to touch, not mine to feel. I watch the way your eyes glow with love, and sometimes I wish it is me that you are thinking about when you do that, but I know, it's not—because it's probably him. I watch you kiss his cheek when you think nobody is watching, and sometimes I wish it was me—but it's not.
I saw you with him yesterday. I saw the passion in your eyes when you pulled him into that empty office, I saw the lust mixed in with the love and desire. I know it's wrong to spy, but we are spies after all and I couldn't pull myself away. I watched the way you kissed him, the way he ravished your lips and it tore me apart inside. I watched the way you clung onto him like he was your life and the way he pressed you to him, and at that moment, I knew, you would never be mine.
A single tear slides down my cheek and I walk away, leaving behind the fragments of my broken heart.
a/n: Poor Jai. Sometimes, I find it hard to hate the guy. So how about you all click the little review button below and tell me what you liked (or didnt like, if that's the case) about this oneshot. It's a little different than my usual angsty funny fluffy stuff..so how did this compare? Good, bad, or ugly? Tell me about it! Rant or rave! Either way, thanks for reading and please please review :)