the end - Where I am depressed , and that's the result.
Beckett was, just as always, sat in her chair in front of three piles of unfilled reports, requests and other bureaucracy stuff he couldn't even make up a name for. She wasn't lazy like him, but even her responsible self couldn't keep up with the lightning-fast speed of police work. Her skinny, sugar-free, tall vanilla latte was placed besides his mocha, with the traveling lids' hole letting out the steam of hot coffee, filling the air with the sort of familiar smell that made him feel home.
He took the usual seat, an old chair that had it's stories, and would certainly grant Richard a book or two if he'd been smart enough to ask around a bit at some point. She seemed not just focused - but submerged - in her work, and didn't caught his presence in the corner of her eye. The tip of her pen flew rapidly, staining the paper permanently with what she thought to be the best terms for the moment. Not that she was this good with written, or even spoken, words. The detective herself knew that she lacked experience in the area where her partner was a natural gift, but her domain of the english language was enough to keep her doing her work. Her talents were in other, not so subtle and elegant, matters.
Castle noticed how her hair had grown in the past four years; he preferred it that way, than when it was short. Somehow, it fitted her face with such grace and delicacy, turned her smile in something even more beautiful when she tried to hide it by dropping her head and letting it form a curtain that covered her face. When she ran her fingers through it, he liked the way it went back to how it was before - nothing special about it, he just... liked it. When he was poetically inspired - or maybe a little drunk - he thought on how the waves in her hair where like the one in the sea, and how she reminded him of the ocean. It was truly a stupid comparison, but fair enough, yet. Both were beautiful, deep, and dangerous, between other thousands of similarities he was too sober to think of. He noticed her eyes, the way they shone in a entirely different way now. He remembered how they seemed unquiet, somewhat scared and with just a hint of wickedness; dark and cold at first, wanting to show that darkness and coldness were not everything. That there were more. And four years later, there it was. The hazel glare in which he lost himself was calmer, warmer. The wickedness was still there, as a reminder that the pain she was once through had it's consequences; but it was faint, awaiting to be awaken at the right moment.
And he wanted to be there. He wanted so much to be by her side, to help her fight away her demons, to have her back when she needs, to hold her even before she hit the ground when she stumbles, and to help her rise when he can't be fast enough to prevent the fall. But something happened. The lies, the secrecy, the inevitable approximation of them, the three that happened fast and carelessly, in a terrible combination. And they were lost.
"C-Castle... I'm sorry, I didn't realize you"
"It's ok, Kate, I just came to..." He stopped. It was a decision made, and for a while he was angry enough to make it. But it finally hurt how it should, and just as much as it could, when he felt the weight of his next words. "I just came to say goodbye."
"Oh, ok, see you tomor-"
"No, Kate. I... wanted to see you one more time." She closed her eyes and winced almost imperceptibly at his voice. She knew what was next. "I'm not coming back."
She draw her breath and pressed her lips against each other hard enough to turn them white. When she opened her eyes again they were targeting the papers in her desk. She couldn't bear his blue eyes, not if they were that cold, and even cold, could burn her with her own guilty and shame of her latest sins. Worse: she could she those burns in him too.
"You made your decision, then..."
"Yes. I made my decision."
She gulped. That was it. The end.
He stood up and leaned toward her, one hand going to her neck, lips pressed agains her hair in a bittersweet gesture.
"I'm sorry." She said.
"I'm sorry too."
And he walked away.