A/N: This is not, I repeat, not a new story. I posted this a couple months ago, deleted it a couple weeks ago for personal reasons, and am now re-posting it with absolutely no changes made to it (even if I ought to make some :P). It's possible that you have read this before, but it is certainly not plagiarism. Nor does this mean that I am writing SWAC again, it is simply a re-post of a story I had previously written and published. Thank you for understanding. :)
On a pleasanter note, this is dedicated to Alexa, my dearest Lex :D You're so amazing, Lex – a loyal friend, a witty conversationalist, a talented writer, an analytical observer…and a simply fabulous person. *hugs* This is for you, Dr. Knight. For everything ;)
Streetlights
She stirs her coffee absentmindedly, drumming her fingernails on the table as she stares out the window of the local coffee shop.
The light flickers to green, setting off a chain reaction.
Cars rush by, a blur of colors and lights speeding past without caring about what they're missing.
She ponders the absence of pedestrians, wondering why people suddenly decided that the only way to travel was in a machine.
A machine that keeps you racing from one place to the next without ever pausing to see the beauty of your surroundings, or to breathe in the fresh air.
This, she muses, is the problem with society. Their blindness to the happiness they already have inevitably leads to their downfall.
It's stupid, really.
Sometimes she wonders why she made the same mistake.
"You don't understand!" She whirls around, her soaking dark brown hair whipping into her tearstained face as she turns back to him.
"What don't I understand?" he fires back, his frustration level increasing as the rain continues to pound down on them, a thunderous wave of water crashing and swallowing them whole.
"You don't understand anything, Chad," she whispers, so quietly that it's almost to herself. "You never did."
"You know that's not true, Sonny, you're just - "
"I'm just what? Stupid? Immature?" The tears begin to fall again, and lightning flashes for a moment, illuminating their faces. His brow is furrowed, and she shakes her head slowly.
"Sonny, why are we always fighting over such silly things?" He reaches out to her with his hands, presumably to hug her, but she recoils automatically, taking a step back.
"I don't know." When she realizes that she's instinctively moved away from him rather than seeking comfort in his arms, she knows that this relationship isn't what it ought to be. "I don't know."
And she turns on her heel and runs, disappearing into the pouring rain.
She returns to reality with a slight jolt, blinking a few times to restore her surroundings.
Looking back down at her well-stirred coffee, she sets the small silver spoon on the side and lifts the cup to her lips, sipping slowly.
The drink has lost its warmth, and the flavor seems dull without the burst of heat on her tongue.
Coffee isn't really her kind of drink anyway.
There are too many extra components to add, too much work to be done by the individual consumer for a drink, too much time to be wasted waiting for it.
Too much to bother with.
Unless it isn't a waste at all.
"Sonny, it's me. Please pick up. This weather is too dangerous for me to drive in and I can't see you at all, I lost sight of you in the rain...it was just a stupid fight, Sonny, please come back. I love you."
"Sonny, where are you? It's been over an hour...I hope you're safe at home rather than wandering the streets in this weather, you'll catch pneumonia. At least call me back to let me know you're alright. I love you."
"Sonny, I couldn't sleep all night. Are you alright? Are you home? Please, please call me. Love you."
"Sonny, if you don't call me within the next hour, I'm going to your apartment in this thunderstorm to find you. Call me."
"Sonny, I'm standing outside your apartment building right now and the doorman won't let me in. What's wrong? Are you there, inside? Why can't I come in? It was just a little argument, sunshine. Let me in?"
"Chad, I'm calling your home phone right now because I know you're out on your cell. That should tell you enough. It's...it's over, Chad. This isn't working. I'm sorry I had to end it...and I'm sorry it had to be this way. I wish you the best."
"Oh my god. Sonny, can't we talk about this? Meet face-to-face? This isn't supposed to happen, I love you! You can't be serious...sunshine, please."
"I'm sorry, Chad."
"Sonny, you can't be - "
"There's someone else, okay?"
She bites her lip anxiously, still wondering if she made the right decision.
Lying, after all, has never come naturally to her, even if she is in the business of acting.
But she had good intentions...didn't she?
The streetlight opposite the window flashes green, and the cars speed off once again.
The taste of coffee lingers on her lips, a bittersweet flavor that somehow brings tears to her eyes.
One falls from her eyelid, making its way down her cheek and melting into her mouth, the salt mingling with the bittersweet.
Something within her breaks, the fissure on her heart splitting open and creating an empty chasm within her.
She buries her face in her hands, ready to let the flood of tears out after months of repressing them.
"Sonny?"
That voice.
She looks up and hastily wipes her eyes, trying not to smear her mascara.
Yet even through the blur of tears, there is no mistaking those flashing blue eyes in front of her.
The streetlight flicks from yellow to red in a heartbeat, and the cars come screeching to a stop.
After she says the fateful words and silence comes from the other end of the phone, she hangs up, not wanting to have to hear any more.
She goes through her closet, her room, her apartment, looking for anything that reminds her of him.
It's harder for her to find something that doesn't.
Instead, she takes everything that belongs to him and packs it into a large cardboard box. She tapes it shut and mails it off to him that very day.
As for the pictures of them together, she can't bring herself to destroy them.
So she stuffs them all into a large manila envelope and shoves the envelope under her bed.
She'll never look at it again, she tells herself.
Yet she does so in only three days, when the cardboard box shows up on her doorstep, a note attached saying simply, "Keep it."
"Chad," she says, her voice choking on the name. "It's been awhile."
He simply nods, gesturing to the chair across from her and silently asking.
"Oh, go ahead," she offers cheerfully, her bright voice conveying a false sense of ease and friendliness. "So how have you been?"
She winces at the awkward phrasing, emphasizing that she hasn't seen him for months. And whose fault is it? "I mean...how's life?"
Rather than responding immediately, he takes a seat and looks straight at her for a moment. His eyes are as piercing as ever, but there's a shadow within them now, a subtle wall built up as if to say that no one can break in. No one.
"I've been...good," he responds eventually, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Busy. You know, work. All that."
"Right," she replies, the conversation stilted and every bit as awkward as she knew it would be. "Same here."
"Right."
They sit in silence for a moment, both of them glancing at the table, the ceiling, the window, anywhere but each other.
She has the note with her all the time, carrying it in her purse until the creases of the folds are worn down and the paper isn't really considered white anymore.
Keep it.
It's times like these when she wonders what 'it' is.
The box? The things inside it?
His heart?
"Sonny." Tawni frowns, dismayed by her friend's dull mood. "Sonny, this isn't right."
"But it has to be," she murmurs to herself, smoothing the edges of the note with her fingers. "It wasn't right when we were together. It has to be right now that we're apart."
"Or else?" Tawni wraps an arm around her shoulders, comforting her as well as she can.
"Or else it was all for nothing."
His eyes fall upon her almost-full cup of coffee, eyeing it curiously.
"You don't like coffee." It's a statement rather than a fact, and she inwardly shudders to think that he knows her better than she knows herself.
Does she know him that well?
"Well, you don't like it either," she argues, the fact dawning on her as her memories are recalled. "Why did you even come into this coffee shop?"
"Well, why did you?" He gives her that look again, and she feels like crying, though she's sure that wasn't his intention.
"Because - because I'm - I'm - "
"I came in here because I saw you."
She's speechless for a moment, and then she pulls the note out of her purse for the millionth time.
He looks at it with confusion written on his face, until she pushes it across the table and he reads it.
His face lights up ever so subtly, but he keeps his voice controlled as he passes it back to her.
"You kept it."
She wonders if it was all just a huge mistake.
If she overreacted, if nothing was ever really wrong in the first place.
After all, she's felt nothing but heartbreak ever since she ended it.
But that would mean admitting that she was wrong, and she can't do that.
So she pretends that the ache inside her doesn't exist.
And neither does he.
"Of course I did," she admits honestly. "I kept everything."
"Everything?" He lifts his eyebrows, skeptical. She knows he has good reason to be, and her heart twinges as a lump appears in her throat.
"Everything."
She moves her hand as if to cover his on the table, then draws back, unsure. Her eyes dart up to meet his disappointed ones, and she instantly regrets everything.
"If you could change anything about us…anything that ever happened," he asks, leaning in to decrease the distance between them. "What would it be?"
"How we ended. Why we ended," she admits, a wistful smile on her face. "The end of it all."
This is apparently the right answer, as he tries to hide the smile beginning to creep onto his face.
"I have something else for you to keep." His fingers brush hers for a moment, pressing a scrap piece of paper into her hand. "Read it."
She opens her hand and unfolds the paper, her eyes straining to see the light pencil marks.
I wish I had realized what I had when you were mine.
When she looks up again with a grin on her face, he's disappearing out the door.
"Do you love me?" she whispers, her chocolate eyes full of hope.
"Of course I do." He holds her tighter, his arms around her waist and pressing her close.
"Really?" Her face lights up, and his lips brush her nose with a butterfly touch.
"Like I've never felt about anyone else."
"Me too," she tells him with a heartfelt smile. "Except about you."
"Chad!" She dashes from her seat, pushing the door open and rushing out onto the sidewalk, the cars blowing her hair everywhere.
"Chad!"
He turns around, about ten steps ahead of her, and she doesn't hesitate to run into his arms.
"It was a mistake," she blurts out, burying her face into his chest. "A mistake, a horrible mistake, I haven't been able to forgive myself for it ever since. Can you ever forgive me?"
She finally brings herself to meet his eyes, and the answer is clear.
When they kiss, it's like nothing ever went wrong.
The streetlight behind them flashes red.
If we loved again, I swear I'd love you right.
A/N: Review? ;)