Title: Guilt Ridden, Chp 3. Atonement
Rating: R
A/N: Let me know what you think. These are getting beta read right now, so I'll be new and improved soon. Probably not the best way to do things, but oh well! J As always, comments are welcome! (AugustanaRae@hotmail.com)
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All of my life there has always been pain. So constant that I scarcely notice it now. I seek it, like some demented person who's addicted, but it's so much worse than any other addiction. And now this.
Just another day. And yet everything's different. The night is harsher and in the darkness I see the shadows looming over me, waiting to capture me if I plunge into sleep. To steal my soul that hardly exists, and now to steal the life that dwells within me. I hate this world. I hate the grime and the love he doesn't feel and the way my body aches at night. I'm not supposed to feel anything. And now tears come to me when I think of him. What have I become? I'm human. Except I'm not. I can never belong. He doesn't want me. And now I've been outcast.
I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Sleep won't come to me. I've even been deprived of that. I try to count the holes in the ceiling but there are too many and I bite my lip to suppress a sob as I am drowning in the night. I shift restlessly. I am incapable of being happy. Fate, that bitch, has screwed me over for the last time. What the hell am I gonna do now?
After an interminable amount of time the light comes, stretching across the sheets and over my body. I watch it creep over me and try not to think of his eyes or the ecstasy that would be his touch moving in the same patterns. I'm so unworthy. I lie like a dead weight, unwilling to face the world one more time. Maybe if I hide under the covers it will never come. And I will never have to tell him.
My steps are leaden as I get ready for the day. I go through the motions without seeming to move. I can't think about anything. If I do, I won't ever leave my room. The sun is in its full glory now and I am being blinded. I blink in oblivion as I brush my hair. I let my music wash over me but I don't even hear the melodies. I'm empty.
The cool morning air does not faze me as I continue through my dismal life. I blink and the minutes slip by, and then the hours, and then the days. The only thing I feel is a dull ache in my stomach as I hope I don't see his familiar number on my pager. I know I can't live forever like this, but I can't bring myself to face the truth. It's like I don't even exist anymore. There's only the morning sickness and the feeling of emptiness that never dissipates.
And then it happens. He pages me. I feel a wave of nausea passes over me as I stare at the little numbers in horror. I can't say no to him. I can never say no. I try to stretch out my shift, fearing the inevitable. But the time passes too quickly, as it always does when you don't want it to. I'm at his apartment, staring at the door. I study the patterns in the wood trying to get over my anxiety. I reflect on the intricacies of the design, wishing everything was simple once more. Suddenly the door is thrown open and I jump back in surprise, staring at the man of my dreams and nightmares.
"Hey," he says, a smile tugging on his lips, his coat thrown over his arm. "I was just going out. But I don't have to." Our eyes meet and I feel as if I'm under a microscope. His eyes are so intense and I know he sees right through me for who I really am. The nervous ball in my stomach swells ten times larger and I avert my eyes, hoping he's not as perceptive as I know he is.
He backs up to let me in, and I step in front of him, struggling to keep my emotions in check. It pains me to look at him in his chair. To face the knowledge of all that I've done to him. He must hate me. We go to his living room and I sit down stiffly on the couch.
"Are you alright, Max?" His eyes look as if there is genuine concern but he doesn't fool me. No one could care about me.
"Why wouldn't I be?" It comes off a little more biting than I had hoped, but maybe he would get the point. He wheels a little closer to the distress of my nerves.
"You tell me…" I should've known he wouldn't have just dropped it. He knows me so much better than that. How did it get to be that way?
"I'm fine, Logan. Really." I look into his eyes and try to reflect the confidence I know I should have. My training comes back to me in a flash, like I never even left, and suddenly it is easy to lie again. He is the enemy after all. I don't know how I've exposed myself to him so much, but that has to end now. He doesn't care for me. He never did.
He comes even closer. What is he doing? His eyes search my face but I reveal nothing. I am a stone, reflecting the blankness that I have become.
"Max," he whispers, and I feel my walls wavering slightly. He's so close, and his hand comes up to brush my face and the tears that I hadn't realized were gathering under my eyes. As his skin touches mine, one falls down, and I stiffen even more. His fingers sweep over my cheek so softly. But he doesn't love me. I know he doesn't. I cry at the deceptive sweetness. If only he knew…
"I want to help you…" He leans closer so I can smell him and see the stubble on his cheeks and where each hair originates. I can see the pores of his face and the reflection of the light and me in his eyes. He's so real, and here he is in front of me. I try to keep up my barricade and pretend it doesn't affect me, but the tears running down my face betray me.
His lips come closer still and I can't look away. They brush mine ever so slightly and guilt sears through me as flashes of another night run through my memory when I close my eyes. The kiss is like a caress from a mother, soft and loving and sweet, an incredible contrast to my previous encounters. His lips linger, but I push him away. Everything in me screams at the loss of contact and an intense chill rushes over me. But I don't deserve this.
"Max…" He is still so near. He looks so innocent. So righteous. "Let me help you…Please." My heart breaks at his soft words. I've done so much to him. How can this be happening? But I've always never been able to say no to him. How could I? After everything… And it feels so good.
His lips find mine again and my eyes slide shut once more, losing the rest of the world. It feels wonderful to have his arms on me and his soft tongue pressing against mine. I know it is a lie, but I don't care anymore. I swallow my guilt as his hands move deliciously. I want him so bad. I just want to forget.
I find myself on him and my hands moving of their own will. Our bodies press together, hungry for atonement, desperate for love. I know this is so wrong but those thoughts are pushed to the back of my mind as his hands dip beneath my waistband. I revel in the feelings. At least instead of emptiness it is wistful thinking. We moan together when our bodies join, heated, slick with sweat. My hands wrap in his hair and I never want to let go.
As we come to our crescendo I feel an incredible sense of guilt. My crying is stifled by his mouth. As I lie against him, my head pressed on his shoulder in the aftermath of bliss, the tears slide down fresh. I've failed him again. If only he knew me. If only he knew all of me. This is all I can give him now. I hope it is enough.