Disclaimer: I don't own the song, and I don't own the characters…
Summary: Because, at times, you only realize how damaged something is, when it starts falling apart right in front of you. But what would you do if that "something" is the most important thing in your life?
The house was dark and cold. Not at all welcoming as the tall, dark-haired man opened the front door. He stood in the foyer, his crimson eyes taking in the shadow-engulfed house. A strong hand seemed to clinch his guts in a tight fist, making him feel sick. He steadily made his way into the dim interior, involuntarily holding his breath as his came into the bedroom, bracing himself from what he would find.
A slightly trembling hand reacted out for the closet door. His hand tightened on the handle before he wrenched the door open. The pent up breath he'd been holding came out in a rush. His eyes taking in the feminine accessories and apparels still hanging and folded neatly in the wardrobe.
The discovery seemed to rob him of his strength. He grasped the edged of the bed and slowly sat himself. Tonight could be chalked up as the most dreadful experience he had in his life thus far. It was the first time he came home to find his wife not in the house.
He scrubbed his face with his hands in frustration. Earlier, she'd messaged him that she'll be going out. Just like the other times she'd inform him that she'll be going out after work. He'd never bothered to send her a reply, excusing that he didn't have time with his busy work schedule, when he was just being his lazy self. Now he wondered if he should have responded even with a simple "ok" during all those times.
He gave their bedroom a cursory glance, before he fell back onto the bed. The sick churning in his gut was starting up again. She'd always been back from her excursions before he came home from work, except for tonight. Tonight was the first time he'd came home earlier than she did.
His eyes closed, his mind going back to the time when they were newly married. He was still new to the company then, and the work and responsibilities hadn't piled up yet. He used to come home early. Come home to her. And she'd be there. She and that bright smile she used to give him, welcoming him home.
Light suddenly flooded the room, making him bolt up.
You whispered that you were getting tired,
Got a look in your eye,
Looks a lot like goodbye.
Hold on to your secrets tonight.
Don't want to know I'm okay with this silence
It's truth that I don't want to hear
Mikan stood by the doorway, her hand still posed over the light switch. Hazel eyes met a pair of crimson across the room. But only a brief moment passed before the hazel broke the contact. "Oh, you're back," she said softly.
"Where have you been?" he asked, keeping his voice low, least it sound like an accusation.
"I visited with Hotaru, and then passed by the supermarket to buy some groceries," she answered, walking towards the bedside table then placing her keys and wallet in the drawer.
Silence suddenly engulfed the room. Strained and uncomfortable. The result of too many unsaid words between the couple.
She gently pushed the drawer close, cutting through the silence, and turned to face him. "I'm tired," she whispered in a breath, softly but loud enough for him to hear. "Natsu-"
"Have you eaten yet?" he quickly interrupted, steering the conversation to neutral territory. The words, the tone of her voice, and the weariness evident in her eyes had sent cold terror slithering down his spine. He'd rather they return to the tense, uneasy silence than hear something he never wanted to hear coming from her.
Mikan paused, looking at him with a blank expression on her face. Silence regaining the upper hand in the room again. The minutes went on for what seemed like hours, before Mikan broke it again. "Yes, I already had dinner with Hotaru before I went to the grocery." She glanced toward the general direction of the kitchen. "I don't have dinner prepared. I hope you'd already eaten." She looked at him inquiringly. "I could make something if you haven't yet."
He shook his head. "No, it's okay. I already grabbed a burger on my way home," he told her quietly.
Inside, his heart gave a painful squeeze. He remembered the time when they used to have dinner together. When he came home, she'd just be finished cooking dinner, and he'd go help her set the table. The sound of their conversation and laughter resounding in the house. They'd smile and tease; love evident in the way they'd regarded one another.
But that was then. Right now, they both seemed to feel ill at ease being in the same room as the other. Their conversations dull and mundane, as if they were both afraid to impose on each other's life.
You're hiding regret in your smile
There's a storm in your eyes I've seen coming for awhile
Hold on to the past tense tonight
Don't say a word,
I'm okay with the quiet.
The truth is gonna change everything.
So lie to me and tell me that it's gonna be alright
So lie to me and tell me that we'll make it through the night
I don't mind if you wait before you tear me apart,
Look me in the eye,
Lie, lie, lie.
As if to just break the building silence, she said, "I'm going to hit the shower." And walked to the bathroom without a backward glance, snagging a towel on her way.
He watched as the bathroom door slammed shut, then stood up to get a towel for himself. His feet taking him to the bathroom down the hall. There was a time, a year or so ago, when he wouldn't even hesitate to join in with her bath. But not now. Now, he didn't know if their relationship could ever go back to being like that again.
When he got back, she'd already finished drying her hair and was already prepared for bed. She turned to him and gave him a smile. A smile that didn't even give the slightest attempt to reach her hazel eyes. If you could call that brief quirk of her lips a smile, that is.
A brief nod was his reply, before he swiftly turned away. He didn't want to stare too deeply into her eyes, knowing he might see something in them he'd never want to.
The two of them got on from opposite sides of the bed. Both seemed to carefully avoid any physical contact with the other, stringently keeping to their own side. After they were settled, the bedside lamp was turned off without even a single word of goodnight to their partner.
Natsume lay awake as the hours ticked by, watching the shadows dancing on the ceiling. When he was sure Mikan's deeply asleep, he shifted to his side, towards her direction. He spent a moment watching the slender form facing away from him. His arm seemed to suddenly possess a mind of its own, reaching out towards her.
But before his fingers could touch her shoulder, he stopped and pulled back just as suddenly as he'd reached for her. His hand curled into a fist before he flipped to his back again, flinging his arm over his eyes. His heart gave another painful squeeze as it did earlier. Since when had there been an invisible wall between them? Then again, until recently, he'd been too busy with work to notice if it was being built right under his nose.
They'd been happy in the first two years of their marriage. That was when he had just started in the company and was lower in the corporate ladder. After his promotion a year ago, his career got better and better. But things started going downhill for their relationship since then. Right now, he would willingly give up his career if it would make things right between him and his wife again.
His work hours had gotten longer and longer, to the extent where he'd only be able to come home in the early hours of the morning. Even to the point where he'd go to work during the weekends. Stressed out and tired, it left little time to enjoy and share with his wife. Not to mention, he'd started missing out on promised dates with Mikan.
Thinking back, the instance when he'd missed their anniversary was probably the final straw for her. Ever since then, she'd started growing colder and colder. Not that she acted hostile whenever he'd disappointed her. What's worse was that she was getting more and more distant. And that's what was frightening him the most; that she would one day give up on him – on them.
I know that there's no turning back.
If we put too much light on this we'll see through all the cracks.
Let's stay in the dark one more night.
Don't want to know I'm okay with the silence.
It's truth that I don't want to hear.
So lie to me and tell me that it's gonna be alright
So lie to me and tell me that we'll make it through the night
I don't mind if you wait before you tear me apart
So look me in the eye,
And lie, lie, lie.
The following day, Natsume woke up earlier than usual. He got out of bed and dressed, taking some time to stare down at his still sleeping wife. He wanted to lean down and give her a kiss, but he refrained, knowing it was a bad idea. He needed to making it up to her first, and hope that it wasn't too late.
An hour later, he heard the sound of light footsteps coming towards him. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Mikan standing by the kitchen doorway, gawking at the scene before her. The look on her face clearly told him exactly what she's thinking – that the world was coming to an end soon.
He looked down on himself. Well, he supposed he couldn't blame her. She'd have thought he'd already left for work when she didn't find him still in bed. But the image of him wearing an apron and cooking breakfast might be a bit too much for her so suddenly.
She blinked, probably making sure she really wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. Once she'd established that she wasn't, she blinked again, the dull blankness coming back into her eyes. "Natsu-"
"I'm making omelet," he interrupted her once again, turning back to the food he was cooking. "You said you liked it the last time I made this. It's been a while since I've cooked something though."
He hated seeing that look in her eyes; was hoping that he'll get rid of it by doing this. But it was perhaps too much wishful thinking on his part. Just cooking her breakfast one morning can't suddenly erase the past disappointments, as if they had never been.
Silence permeated the kitchen, before Mikan deemed to break it. "I'll set up the table," she uttered quietly.
No further words were spoken after that, as they readied breakfast. When they were both seated at the table, they filled the flourishing silence with talk about routine topics, nothing that would touch either on a personal level.
And in the back of his mind, Natsume could see the cracks in their relationship growing. He knew they needed to talk, but he was deadly afraid of what she would say to him. What if, rather than wanting to fix their damaged relationship, she suggest they just end everything between them? He didn't think he could take it.
When they finished eating, she automatically picked up the empty dishes on the table and headed for the sink.
Natsume stood up, too. "I'll help you wash-"
It was her turn to interrupt him. "No, it's okay," she said, placing the dishes in the sink. She then looked him in the eye and gave that fake smile again. "I got time to wash all of these by myself before I go to work. Besides, your shirt might get wet. Get going. Don't want you to be late for work," she added, turning back to soak the dishes.
Natsume stood by, wanting to tell her "To hell with his damn shirt! Who cares if it gets wet!" But he was unable to do anything, except curl his hand into a tight fist. With a quick whirl, he marched out of the house, grabbing his car keys on the way out.
Once he got inside the car, he placed the key in the ignition and turned it. The car roared to life. But instead of shifting the gears and driving away, he leaned back and squeezed his eyes shut.
His mind recalled the times in the past when Mikan used to send him off with a goodbye kiss, and a soft "take care" or "I love you". He then remembered that brilliant smile that used to always be on her face. That smile which lighted up his whole world. He knew that smile would still have the same effect on him, if he was ever fortunate enough to see it again.
That smile he loved – the smile Mikan had retained even though all the hardships she suffered in her life – had finally crumbled and disappeared. And what's worse, he was the cause of it. That's what hurt him the most. He didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself for that.
Those times – their time filled with tender words and loving smiles – appeared long gone and unreachable now.
Don't want to believe in this ending
Let the cameras roll on,
Keep pretending
Tomorrow's all wrong if you walk away
Just stay
That evening, he came home from work to find Mikan's car in the driveway. Glancing at his watch, he supposed it was natural she'd be home by now; it was already a-quarter-to-ten in the evening. He'd been meaning to come home to dinner tonight, but he'd gotten caught up in work again.
But least, this time, she's home before he was. He never wanted to return to a dark, empty house again, like he did yesterday.
He parked his car beside Mikan's, locked the doors, and headed for the front door. But as he passed by the front of her car, he noticed the heat radiating from it. His hand reached out to touch the hood, and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.
The hood of her car was still hot. She'd just gotten home, too!
He gulped, trying to ease the sick feeling in his chest. He knew it wasn't a good sign when your spouse starts to come home late in the evening. Did she felt this way too every time he'd come home late?
Entering the house, he easily found her in the kitchen. She raised her head when she heard him approach, and gave him that smile again – that fake smile that he was starting to hate to his very soul.
Not wanting a confrontation, he could do nothing except respond with a small, strained smile of his own. Afraid that doing anything else would make their already fragile relationship shatter.
But in his mind, he knew this won't last; they won't be able to keep up the charade for much longer. Because all too soon, the cracks he'd been trying his best to ignore would grow too wide, and everything will crumble. And when that happens, he knew his whole life would come crashing down, too.
So lie to me and tell me that it's gonna be alright
So lie to me and tell me that we'll make it through the night
I don't mind if you wait before you tear me apart
Look me in the eye,
And lie, lie, lie.
So lie to me and tell me that we're gonna be okay
So lie to me and tell me that we'll make it through the day
I don't mind if you wait before you tear me apart
Look me in the eye,
And lie, lie, lie.
SONG: Lie by David Cook
A/N: I usually don't like stories with sad endings (let alone write one T_T). I believe reality has enough of those as it is. And fiction is a place where we can momentarily escape that harsh fact; where we could keep our hopes up and believe that "happily ever after" still exists somewhere in the world.
Yeah, I know, I'm cynical. But I've seen enough real-life relationships crash and burn to be this way. I think it's because sometimes we all forget that being in love isn't enough. Keeping your partner "in love" with you is what counts. Maintaining a relationship needs effort, trust, understanding, and a-hell-of-a-lot of compromise from both parties. Well, that's this author's humble opinion anyway. :)
If anyone thinks Mikan's a bit too cold and unforgiving in this story, well, she does have her reasons. Besides, I wrote this from Natsume's point of view, so I didn't include what's going on in Mikan's head... hmm... I suppose I can't leave the story like this. I think I'll find another song and write another story that can be related to this one. Just to give them a happier ending and for my own peace of mind. Haha. Peace out! ;)