Love Him Like I Would

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Another one-shot! YAY!! Anyway, I couldn't help myself :P Song is Teardrops on My Guitar, Taylor Swift. I'm sorry if any of this is confusing to you, I tried to make it so everybody could follow. R&R PLEASE!!

Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see,
That I want and I'm needing, everything that we should be,
I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about,
And she's got ev'rything that I have to live without...

She sighed. Yet again, he looked at her; briefly, but looked at her nonetheless. Or maybe he looked through her? She didn't know. It didn't matter. He'd never understand how much it pains her to smile at him when he's got her on his arm. He'd just never understand.

Maybe it was her fault. She had her chance. She could've stopped this; that could've been her over there. But no, she was stupid and scared. That's all she ever was. Maybe she was, what they call, different. So what? He seemed to like that. He used to seem to like that. Now? Now he seems to like something different to her.

It was fair, but wasn't fair. She couldn't decide. That girl looking at him, the one his eyes pierced with love, she was so lucky. She probably didn't know how lucky she was, but she knew. She knew that that girl was the luckiest girl ever.

That girl had everything. That girl had one person that was her everything. That girl was gorgeous. She had to admit. She may have never been that beautiful. Maybe she never could be. Again, she didn't know.

All she knew was he talked about her all the time. Eventually, her name came out and she was devastated. Yes, devastated. She had everything she had to live without. She was gorgeous, according to him, on the inside and out and he was obliviously in love with her.

Drew talks to me, I laugh 'cause it's so damn funny,
But I can't even see anyone when he's with me,
He says he's so in love, he's finally got it right,
I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night...

He talks to her. Tells her jokes, tells her secrets, tells her his fears, his joys, his secrets, his worries his…everything. In a room full of people, he chooses to talk to her. She doesn't know why, but she doesn't care. All that matters is he's talking. To her.

He's gone and she doesn't even know. She's still gazing at him, her eyes following his every move. Yet, still, it doesn't register that he's talking to that other girl. To those people she doesn't see.

Somebody nudges her and she loses sight of him as he turns the corner with her hand tightly clasped in his. He's smirking. She loved that smirk. They both did. But at the same time, she hated it. Because it was never for her. It was always reserved for that other girl.

Always. But he always comes back and talks to her. Sometimes, when she thinks about it, she laughs. She loves talking with him, but all he ever talks about it that other girl. She was the first to know that he was going to purpose to that other girl. He was so in love. She knew that. He had said it too many times to forget it.

All the dating, all the wasting time and the girl he loved were right there. She was always right there. He said it all the time. He thinks about her all the time, talks about her all the time. He can't go a day without her voice. He always needs to look into her eyes, be it a picture or not.

It was a fantastic speech, so she thought. That other girl seemed pleased as well. She thought, though, it may have been better if he were on his knee in front of her. Holding out that gorgeous ring and his gorgeous eyes pleading with her to say 'yes'.

He always came back to talk to her about that other girl. And she always thought everything he thought about that other girl about him. She always dreamt of his face at night.

He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,
The only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishin' star,
He's the song in the car I keep singin', don't know why I do...

She had him memorized. All his habits, peeves and hobbies. He had stopped playing guitar so long ago. Ever since his mother had died. He had once told her that it wasn't worth it without her. Though, most told him he shouldn't have given up, that his mother would've wanted him to continue with the thing he loved, she understood.

She understood that he just couldn't keep playing. She was with him when he played, and the image of her corpse lying lifeless in a casket wasn't the thing he wanted to remember her by. But that's what came when he played, so he stopped. And she understood.

She had played once. Learned the sounds of the chords, the tuning and so on. She mostly played by ear. She sometimes sat on the foot of her bed; the guitar cradled in her cross-legged lap and hit the memorized chords to the sound of her sadness. Tears would fall into and onto the heart of the guitar and sometimes stayed there.

She's gaze out into the stars and waited, just sat and waited, for that gleam of hope that dashed by quickly. Her shot at him. The only thing she ever wished for anymore. The only thing she found worth while wishing for anymore. Him.

He was the plague that consumed her mind. He was the teardrops, the sad chords she strummed, the wishes, the restless nights, the stars, the incessant love and loss songs on the radio she always sang along with and he was her everything.

Drew walks by me, can he tell that I can't breathe?
And there he goes, so perfectly
The kind of flawless I wish I could be

She better hold him tight, give him all her love
Look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky 'cause...

She held her breath every time he was near her. She'd hold her breath until she was blue in the face, then he was gone, and she took deep breaths. Sometimes she hadn't even known she had stopped breathing, it had become a habit. Ever since that other girl was in his life, romantically.

She'd see him in slow motion, ever step he took was just perfection. All the girls loved him, all the guys loved to hate him, everybody either wanted him, or wanted to be him. She knew why. Never questioned it, actually. He was perfection. Picture perfect in every way. That was the reason she held her breath.

He was flawless. Mostly. In her eyes, his only, giant, flaw was that other girl that clung to his arm. She held nothing against that girl, but she often wondered why that girl was different to herself. The only thing that girl had over her was him. She reasoned with herself; that had to have been a lie. There had to be something to that girl that she was severely lacking.

Or maybe there wasn't a difference, or a big difference; maybe she just gave up her chance. It may have been a small chance, but that didn't matter, the fact was it was a chance. And she lost it. Some things only come around in life once. And she lost hers. She'd have to live with that forever. The only thing she could ever ask or hope for anymore was that he would be happy. With that girl.

"Just do me one favour. Love him like I would." She whispered to that girl that night before the wedding. Her only response was, well, she didn't know what it was. She split the moment after the words left her moment. But had she been there to hear what that girl's response was she'd know that he would be happy.

"I'll hold him extra tight for you, love him that extra bit for you, look into his eyes and know that they aren't all for me." That girl whispered to herself before turning back to her guests. She didn't hear, she didn't know, that that girl had always known. Always known she had been hurting. That girl knew, and it hurt that girl to know she still continued on with it.

That girl loved that boy. That boy loved her. She loved him. And he was caught in the middle. In between her and that other girl. But she had her chance. She lost that chance. And now that girl was taking it. Living it to the fullest. And a little bit more, just for her.

He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,
The only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishin' star,
He's the song in the car I keep singin', don't know why I do...

New tears, old tears, she couldn't tell the difference anymore. They were all the same. They all held the same meaning, the same dread, sorrow, sadness, regret, spite, rage and hate. No, she didn't hate anyone. Only herself. She hated herself because she let that chance go. She could've taken that chance; she could've been that girl.

But she wasn't. She wasn't that girl. She was herself, tossing and turning all night before gripping that guitar and trying to strum her way to a restless sleep. She was sure she'd be waking up with bloodshot eyes. She'd be there, standing at the pew and watching them wed. Her bloodshot eyes would burn. Burn with tears of sadness and happiness.

Sad: adjective, sad·der, sad·dest.

Affected by unhappiness or grief; sorrowful or mournful.

She wouldn't be the one holding his hand, smiling at him through her happy tears. She would be standing at the pew, grieving over her loss at his wedding.

Happy: adjective, -pi·er, -pi·est.

Delighted, pleased, or glad, as over a particular thing.

She would be assured, by all means, that he would be happy with that girl. He not may be with her, but he'd be happy. That's all she'd need at that point.

So, she wished on a star. She sang the songs. She didn't know why, but she did. He wasn't hers, he probably would never be, but she still wished and she still sang. Maybe if she wished enough, it would seem real. He was actually with her instead of that girl. But they say a wishing star is just myth. Signing stupid songs in a car wouldn't do her any good. But she did it anyway.

So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light,
I'll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight...

So that's what she did that night. She drove home alone. Singing the songs that mocked her loveless life. It was a short drive, but it didn't seem like so. It seemed never ending. No wishing stars in the sky just made it seem less real. Her dream would never come true. And she knew that.

So she crawled into her bed. Darkness surrounded her. She felt as though it were swallowing her whole. She thought about that then rephrased it. The darkness would swallow her body whole. Her soul was already black. A dark, black hole. Only sorrow.

She opened her drawer and pulled out a picture frame then set it by her head on the bedside table. That's when the tossing and turning began. She hoped she would get some sleep. She would be tired the next morning if she didn't, and she didn't exactly want to fall asleep at the pew.

He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,
The only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishin' star,
He's the song in the car I keep singin', don't know why I do...

It was the same every single night. The same routine. She would always pull out that guitar and strum herself to sleep. Teardrops on her guitar, wish after wish on a star, the songs she'd always sing in the car. It was so convenient. She was so used to it that it was her lifestyle.

Envy was a way of life.

He's the time taken up, but there's never enough,
And he's all that I need to fall into…

She was right; her eyes were definitely bloodshot and burning. She was standing at the pew, looking at her walk down the aisle. A vision of white. She thought back to all the times she'd spent with him. So many nights were spent just fooling around. Back in high school. In college.

She'd sometimes crash at his place because they'd lost track of time and had talked into the early hours of the morning. He would then insist she stay, to which she would oblige happily. Yes, much time was spent together. But now, looking back…it seemed too short. IT seemed like there wasn't enough time now.

Thinking back, it was all too soon. All of it. It began too soon. It ended too soon. They were a 'they' too soon. The proposal was too soon. Everything was just…too soon. She wasn't ready to let him go. She wasn't ready to watch him venture off with his own life with that girl. She didn't want it to happen. She didn't want it to end. It was too soon.

He was all it took for her too fall in love all over again. He was all it took for her heart to break again. He controlled her and he didn't even know. This was her chance again. The priest had just asked for any objections. She contemplated on standing and saying proudly, 'I object'. But before she could, someone else did.

"I object!" Everyone in the church looked around, searching for the voice that had spoken. There was a commotion at the alter that made everyone halt. That girl. She called it out. She objected to her own wedding. She felt her heart soar with the possibilities. "I can't do this." That girl said apologetically.

Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see...

"I can't marry you, Derek." That girl said and everyone in the church gasped. Derek looked at that girl with wide eyes and shook his head, grasping her hands in his own.

"W-why not? Of course you can! There isn't anything stopping us." He said to her, his eyes pleading. That girl shook her head 'no' and took off the ring then planted it in his hand before she gathered her dress and walked quietly up the aisle. Everyone was in shock and remained silent. "Just answer this one question." He said and that girl turned to him and nodded. "Why not?"

"Because," that girl began, her tear ridden face slowly broke into a small smile, "you don't love me as much as you love somebody else." She said and shot her a smile before leaving.

"But…Lizzie! What do you mean?!" He shouted after her. She turned to him once more as he made her way to him. Lizzie gingerly took his face in her hand and pushed it in the direction of her. "Casey?" He asked and Casey stepped out of the pew.

"She loves you Derek. And you love her. I love Edwin. And Edwin loves Casey." Lizzie explained as she shrugged. She turned to Casey. "You've had your share of not being loved. Not it's my turn." She said and Casey hugged her tightly.

"I love you, Liz. You'll never be unloved." She whispered in her ear and the two of them sniffled as they looked at each other. Lizzie smiled at her and left. Derek looked at Casey and his eyes searched hers.

"I lo –" Casey began.

"I've gotta get her back." Derek said before taking off after Lizzie's retreating for. The burning in her eyes ceased as the tears spilled over. Lizzie was wrong. She would always be the unloved one. They say you can't die of a broken heart.

Edwin Venturi disagreed. He knew that it was possible as he knelt by Casey McDonald's grave. It was possible to die of a broken heart.

If only he had been that lucky.

A/N: Okay, SO not how I pictured it ending. I think this is just a LITTLE BIT darker than my usual writing. Okay, maybe a lot darker. Anyway, the idea bit me and just biting me when I listened to the song, so I just wrote it.

Tell me what you think please!! REVIEW!!