Title: I Feel
Spoilers: Nope
Rated: PG
Summary: short vignette. "Oh Scully, I feel this and it feels so good."
Author Notes: Just a short little vignette I wrote in the middle of one of my classes an oh so very long time ago. Tell me what you think, feedback is always welcome.
The wind is cold today as it flows past me, forcing itself down the street of this podunk city in the middle of nowhere. The wind is chilling, freezing everything that it touches. It stops in front of me, playing with the flaps of my coat, begging for entrance. Trying desperately to come inside and consume me there. Though I can hear the doctor in you warn me and plead with me to take care of myself, I can't resist the urges to let the wind come in and freeze my heart from this pain. Numbly I open the flaps just a bit to invite it in.
Don't worry Scully, I can't feel it.
I walk down the street, passing a small bar. A group of people stand outside, waiting for entrance, or a friend, or waiting for, I don't know, something, anything. I don't really care what or who they are waiting for or do I give them much of my thought. I feel their eyes on me, traveling with me. They snicker and point. I imagine that I do look bad. I haven't shaved in two days and if my eyes look as bad as I suppose, swollen and red from the steady stream of tears that I have cried, then I am a site to behold.
But don't worry Scully, I can't feel the pain there anymore, I don't care about their stares.
I walk a little further down the street, where the people no longer linger. My legs feel unsteady beneath me. They shake almost violently as I walk. As I step from the sidewalk on the street below, my legs collapse and I fall ungracefully to the ground. I lean against the brick wall and look down at my legs. I see a tear in my jeans and the blood flooding the denim. I run my hand roughly over it and bring it into the light. The crimson paint viscidly coats my fingers.
Don't worry Scully, I can't fell it. I don't fell it.
All I feel is the blinding pain in my chest. The harrowing heartbreak that consumes me. The guilt of screwing up my life yet again. The knowledge of knowing that I have hurt you and I have disappointed you once more.
I feel my heart crack with each beat and my body is filled with numbness.
Don't worry about me though, Scully. I'll be ok. You deserve so much better than this obsessed man can give you.
Why had I been so stupid? Why had I pulled so far away? Why had I taken your love for granted?
I am sorry, Scully. So sorry!
I had been so close to you, so close to having you, after loving all of you. After hours of expressing my love for you, not by words, but by gestures, by caresses, by tender worship. Scully, I do worship you. You consume me, more graceful and tender than anything that has ever consumed me before. You complete me. But in some mistrusting second, I pulled away just for a moment to let myself be controlled by the conspiracies, by the past that is so long dead. I let that obsession control me again and I had pushed you so far away.
My heart cracks again, begging for the signal to shatter the rest of my soul.
I know now, Scully, I know. And I am so sorry.
I know what I did. I know how wrong I was. I know how much it hurt you. I know that I am a fool. I realize now what I had always known. I realize the truth. The truth is us. Our love. And I have decided that from now on, I only want you to consume me.
I feel the wrenching pain in my chest and the tears that threaten to dampen my cheeks. I feel the pain and the sorrow. I feel the loss and the loneliness.
A small shadow falls over my feet. I numbly glance in the person's direction.
It is so close.
Your hand reaches out to engulf my hand, threading your fingers expertly though mine. My eyes catch yours briefly before you pull me to my feet and wrap your arms around me. Forgiving me.
Oh Scully, I feel this and it feels so good.