White –The Color of Despair
Sometimes, its just better to forget...
The chime burst like sunrise. Light sloshed through as the door slid open. Sounds of early morning traffic rushed into the diner, dim and haunting. The muffled ruckus barely burned through the haze of her thoughts, the distant words floating on the page before her.
A heady thrum beat at her chest, rushing blood filled the sound ridden hollows of her ears. She breathed, just once, imagining in her heart she could smell the almost familiar musk.
"Mornin' Ruby." The sweet timber off his voice resonated through blood and flesh and bone, slid the edge of her book downward as the perfect angle of his shoulders came into view. The heart beat once, like the single shaft of sunlight down his back. His short, golden hair barely curled within the loving touch of morning rays.
Her heart craved what it could not have; passion, desire, longing. It had been mind numbing the amount of years she'd wasted in a haze of self loathing and fear. The few dates that had been available crashed and burned without a single spark to ignite it.
Sitting there, alone in a darkened room, she'd read a story to a coma patient, and changed her world completely. Even unconscious, she'd thought he was stunning. Even hooked to feeding tubes and IV's, he'd wandered through her thoughts like a ghost. It had been strange, then, liking him and not knowing why. Wanting him, and not understanding it was the one thing she could never have.
Him.
One glance from those eyes, the color of the sea, and she would have left it all behind. One whisper from his soft lips and everything else in her life would have been abandoned. How many times had she been down this road in her head, replaying over and over how he'd left her alone on the toll bridge? That night, she swore to herself never to try again, it was all in vain.
He was married, and his wife was tall, and blond, and beautiful. A bitter smile bled through. She was a perfect opposite. Her fingers sifted through the short onyx locks, glanced uncertainly down at her short legs and prim blouse.
The cavernous ache in her chest grew with these thoughts, howled in the void like a beast. She gasped, feeling the icy claw burn just inside the ribs, just below her heart. The tense, aching feeling made her feet feel numb, made the cold spread through every portion of her being.
What was the point of comparing? All it did was remind her that it was useless to fight it. Two coffee cups. He had two. There was only room for one other person in his life, and he hadn't chosen her.
The ghost heart beat on in her chest, but felt so empty without him. She should pack it in, get herself to the school before grief and sorrow overwhelmed her. More importantly, she should never try to check her watch in the morning again. This was stupid, painful torture; and it was killing her inside.
The door slid open, perhaps a bit too slowly, and closed. The sounds of the outside world cut short; it was all she could do to muffle the frustrated sob before it threatened to fill the diner.
The tears were starting, hot and livid behind her eyes as the book slammed down against her table. It was so hard. Impossible. And necessary.
A swift glance at her watch had the teacher grumbling, reaching for her bag.
It was 7:16, and she'd be late for school.
AN: Oh, dear, I'm posting to another fandom…I feel like I'm having an affair. Also, hello peeps! Just a few drabbles from some of my favorite characters in the show.
Read! And Review! And LOVE!
E