Author's Notes: I started this story in October 2005 and recently found it while looking browsing the net. I may continue writing it but I just thought I'd post it and see what you all thought
She could be beautiful if she wanted to be. In her own special way she still is, but she's bitter and her beauty can only last for so long under these conditions. I admire her, as I'm sure many do, but it's easy to see she's headed for self-destruction. The blue fire in her eyes burns through anyone lucky enough to keep their eyes on her. Her tongue lashes out on anyone that isn't smart enough to keep his distance. She knows how to make people fear her, but it's not working on me. We all know who she is by name. We all know what she is by reputation. But we've all forgotten the way things were. Before she was broken she was loved by everyone. Her smile warmed up every arena she set foot in. Her eyes lit up anyone's dark day. She wasn't a woman then, but if had stayed on that path she would have been something more than what she is right now.
Her game face is still on, the line across her forehead deep, her nose scrunched with frustration. I haven't heard her say a word, but something isn't going the way she wants it to go. Everyone stepped aside when they saw her coming. No one offered her a cup of coffee. No one offered to fix her make-up. When a tornado is brewing people can sense it coming. Everyone knows that something is coming, and no one wants to be in the way of it. The tension disappears from her face. She looks helpless now, which is something I doubt she knows about. What would people think if they knew she had a heart? With slow steps toward her I turn my head to look behind me. Everyone has left her to be alone, except for me. Her eyes that were once on the ground suddenly hit me. There is no fear within me but for some reason I freeze all movement when I see her brush a blonde curl from in front of her eyes. "Shawn." She says simply and clears her throat. It's still scratchy, but I don't mind. It feels like hours are passing and no one is talking. I can't find the words that I once had. I can't find the air that I need to stay alive. I know she doesn't mind, because whatever air that I would have had would have been taken away from me as she pulled me against her. Whatever words that I could have said were taken away from me when our lips met. Whatever was happening, we didn't care. We didn't want to think. Stephanie just wanted to feel something, and I wanted to make her feel.