AN:

Warnings: Language

Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins"

Chapter Seven
It Hurts to Stay

"Tony," Tea starts the moment the door closes softly behind them, but Tony doesn't want to hear it.

"No." He interrupts, easily assuming the control that had so slipped through his fingers before. He's Tony fucking Snyder and things happen the way he wants them to, or they don't happen at all. "You're scared. You always get scared, and then you come back and we make it work. So let's make this work. I love you. You, at the very least, like me."

"Tony," Tea tries again.

"I'm not finished." He growls before continuing. "So next week, I'm going to take you out. Proper date. Dinner or something. Whatever you want. And we'll go and we'll have a good time. And everything will be just fine. Because we work, Tea."

"Tony, this has to stop."

What?

"Excuse me?" Tony blinks slowly and it's like deja vu of the morning he told her he loved her. Everything going too slow and too fast and none of it makes sense. It's supposed to make sense. Tea makes it make sense, even when she jumbles it all up in a chaotic mess of everything he's always distanced himself from and throws it in his face.

"This," She does that lame pointing to the space between the two of them thing. "It has to stop. I don't want a relationship. And I sure as hell don't want a boyfriend. So whatever this was, it's not anymore."

"You see, this is the you running part. The scared of how you feel bit that I went over a minute ago. I thought we'd decided to skip over that and jump straight to make it work. Was I delusional for a second there? I did actually give the speech?"

"Yes, you gave the speech. It was, well, it was a speech. But I'm not your girlfriend, I don't want to be your girlfriend, and you don't get to decide what bits we skip."

"So we're going to wait out the scared part, and then make it work?" And he's trying to get his smirk back up, but his lips are refusing to cooperate because he knows that's not what she means.

"Tony." And she's looking at him, almost a glare, but without any of the subtext that's become so familiar, so routine. There's no lust behind those eyes, no playful teasing or half-hearted reprimand. She means it. She's ending this thing between them.

And she means it.

"You love me."

"No. I don't." She's quick to deny. Too quick. He's sure she doesn't mean it.

"You love me. You don't have to say it. God forbid you admit that you feel anything." Tea starts to move away from him, away from this conversation and this reality. But his hand, of its own accord, reaches out and grabs her wrist, pulls her back to him. And he comforts himself with the knowledge that if she hadn't wanted him to, he never would have been able to. "But you do. You love me."

"I feel something, okay. But it's not love. It'll never be love." Her eyes, shining with unshed tears bore into his own and he just wants to make the pain stop. His and hers.

"You love me." He tries again. Desperately.

"I don't." She voice wavers and cracks, and he knows, knows beyond any shadow of any doubt, that is a lie. But it's one she wants to believe. Maybe one she has to believe. Maybe she's too broken for him to fix. Maybe he's too broken to fix her. He doesn't know. All he knows is that she chose. Between him and the life she'd always chosen to lead, she chose the facade. She'd rather be a broken mask than real with him. And that's the only thing he really needs to know.

"Fine. Fuck you." Tony's voice breaks. "Go out and fuck any girl that moves. Go and be the Tea Marvelli the world has come to know and fear and respect. Be that girl. The one that had so trapped you that you thought you'd never fucking get out from under the mask of her face. Just go. Be alone."

His fingers loosen, then drop, free her from his grasp.

"Tony..." Tea tries again, reaches out to touch the hand that had released her, but he jerks away.

"I'm tired, Tay. I tried. For months I shut up, I didn't say a word about how I felt. I wanted you to get over this crippling fear you have of relationships and commitment. But I can't anymore, okay? It hurts. All right? Being your little fucktoy on the side hurts. Because I want more, and you won't let me have it."

"So...we're over then?" And there is hesitance there that the old Tony would have pounced on, would have used to get her back in his arms and his bed. But this Tony already has her in his heart, and himself in hers even if she'll never admit it, so he doesn't see the point. He won the battle, perhaps even the war, but it was a hollow victory. He didn't get her in the end.

Somehow, he always thought he would.

"Yeah, Tea." He closes his eyes, tries to will time back to a place where this doesn't hurt. Where he and Tea are perfect and strong and right instead of flawed and weak and wrong. "We're over."

"Okay." He feels her brush her lips against his check, and it's not fair because she doesn't get to do that. To show him that she cares as she's leaving him. To remind him of what they could have been after she shatters it. "Goodbye, Tony."

And he can't get the words out because if he open his mouth all that will come out is stay, and he's begged enough tonight. She wouldn't have anyways. Tea always, always runs away. You'd think he'd have learned that by now.