I didn't think this chapter would ever reach a point where I was satisfied enough to post it. It's been through about three or four rewrites now, and I think I'm okay with it. Of course, let me know what you guys think. :-) I love reviews! Long live reviews! Viva las revistas! Okay, I'm fine...
Disclaimer: (sung to the tune of You Don't Own Me) I don't own them / They are just some of my many toys... Erm, yeah.
Through My Blood
By Alison
Chapter Seven: I Know My Own Heart Now
Morning, sleepyhead.
I rubbed my eyes groggily and looked up at my smiling filmmaker. He had made breakfast in bed: Captain Crunch, a bagel, and coffee. I'm not hungry.
He pushed the tray onto my lap. Too bad, you're eating anyway. You have to get your strength back. Wouldn't want to lose those manly muscles, would you?
I stuck my tongue out and grabbed the coffee mug off the tray. I slowly nursed the hot black liquid, almost afraid to let the mug leave my lips. If it did, I'd be required to talk, and I had no idea what to say.
Mark, I'm in love you. I have dreams about you that require me to take a cold shower and change the bedsheets when I wake up. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, and not just in a best friends and roommates kind of way. More like in a doing what we did yesterday when you brought me home from the hospital kind of way.
Yeah, that'd be a terrific way to begin the morning.
Finally I placed the coffee cup on my nightstand. I had to say something -- if I didn't, my confusion and curiosity would just fester and eventually drive me crazier than I already was. I needed to know what that kiss meant to him.
Hey, uh, Mark? I said nervously, willing my voice not to crack.
Hmm? He glanced innocently up at me, a stolen bite of my bagel stuffed in his mouth.
I just, um, about last night...
He quickly swallowed. Don't worry about it.
I blinked. What?
Look, I know you were just feeling vulnerable. It could've been anyone and you would've done the same thing. You don't need to apologize.
Not exactly the response I'd been hoping for. I wasn't going to-- At the last moment I lost my nerve. Yeah. Okay.
I'll just pretend it didn't happen, he continued. Jesus, how much was he going to rub it in? Lots of people do stuff like that when they're as upset as you were yesterday. It's totally normal. I know it didn't mean anything.
Okay, I got the damn point already!
It wasn't until a look of shock registered on Mark's face that I realized I had shouted.
What's your problem, Roger?
I know it meant nothing to you, okay? You can stop telling me so, I snapped, my lips twisting into a scowl.
Have a heart attack about it, he muttered under his breath.
If you're gonna say something about me, be a fucking man and say it out loud, Mark!
What the hell has gotten into you today? He snatched the breakfast tray off my lap and slammed it down on the night stand. It's not like I've been sitting here throwing insults at you for the past hour.
You might as well have! I stood up and stalked over to the closet.
Mark gave an exasperated sigh. Christ, you'd think you're in love with me or something.
Thankfully, the closet door hid my burning face from view. That's stupid, I mumbled hastily.
A long moment passed before he spoke. No kidding.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Once I was fairly certain my face had returned to its normal shade, I swiped a shirt off a hanger and returned to my bed. As soon as I reached it, Mark rose to his feet.
I -- I should probably -- I've got things to do... I detected the slightest blush on Mark's cheeks as he whirled around and escaped through the open door.
Great. I'd already managed to piss my best friend off and it wasn't even ten AM yet. Could this day get any worse?
Suddenly my bedroom door flew open once again. This time Mimi bounded inside, her curls falling over her shoulder as she hurried to my side.
Apparently, yes.
Mark told me what happened. I came by yesterday, but you were sleeping, and Mark said you needed your rest. She furrowed her brow with worry. What happened, baby?
It took an immense effort to refrain from pulling away or snapping at her. Did she have to treat me like a five-year-old?
It's a long story, I said shortly.
The answer obviously didn't satisfy her. I've got time.
Yeah, well, I don't.
Roger... Mimi touched my shoulder, her fingertips firm against my skin. What's the deal?
I faked a blank look, and she pulled me to the bed, rolling her eyes.
When did this happen? When did we stop talking, having fun... loving? The last word left her lips softly, almost choked out. Our eyes met and searched each others' for understanding. What I found was an upset, frustrated girl, struggling desperately between fright and fearlessness. She was right. Something had changed between us. Was it me or her?
I don't know, I admitted.
Mimi finally tore her eyes away from me and closed them in thought. Me neither.
So what happens now?
Neither of us spoke for several moments. It's kind of scary, she murmured. The idea of breaking up.
I nodded, staring intently at the corner of my bed, where the dingy, rumpled sheet was folded over. It was scary, in a way. Two and a half years we'd been together. I could barely remember what it was like to spend a holiday without her, to go more than a few nights out of her arms. We'd gotten so used to each other.
Maybe that was the problem. We'd gotten too used to each other. Everything was the same, day after day, taken totally for granted.
But I'd lived with Mark for even longer than I'd known Mimi. So why wasn't I taking him for granted, too?
Suddenly Mimi's voice wrenched me out of my thoughts. There's someone else, isn't there? She asked it quietly, as though she knew the answer but dreaded it all the same. You're always distracted, she continued when I didn't respond. Your mind's somewhere else. I tried to ignore it for a long time, just in case I was imagining things.
What did she mean, for a long time? I hadn't started liking Mark until a few days ago!
"Mimi, I never--
Don't lie to me Roger, she interrupted, her tone much softer than the accusatory words seemed to call for. Maybe you didn't realize it, but I did. You're pretty obvious when you like someone, you know. Her lips flickered upward into something resembling a smile, and she fell silent for a few moments before continuing.
Does he know that... that you love him? Okay, I didn't realize she was that observative.
I don't know, I sighed. He might; he's been acting weird lately. I decided against mentioning our kiss the day before.
Well, you know why, right?
Not... really... I said slowly, wondering if maybe I was supposed to.
Mimi's eyes rolled toward the ceiling. Do you have to be hit over the head with something before it gets through to you? He feels the same way! Probably always has.
My throat suddenly felt dry and very constricted. H-how do you know?
Are you dense? He stares at you all the time, comes to every one of your gigs despite his hatred for clubs, he wastes about ten reels of film a day on you alone... he does *everything* for you, and nobody is that devoted to someone they think of as just a friend! By now a tone of aggravation had entered her voice, and a twinge of guilt hit my stomach although I wasn't certain why.
Ther was no interrupting Mimi when she got on one of her tireades, so I didn't bother trying to fit a word in edgewise. Roger, do you think I'd be sitting here telling my boyfriend that his best friend's in love with him if I didn't believe it? Damn it, you have no idea how much it hurts me, knowing that you love Mark more than you'll ever love me, and there's nothing I can do to change it! She stood up, evading the hand I had stretched out toward her.
I've spent entire nights just lying in bed wishing Mark could disappear from the scene and you'd be mine alone. You're not the only one who gets jealous, Roger. And then I see you do something that hurts him, breaks his heart, and you don't even realize what you're doing because you're oblivious enough to think you still love me! I want to hate Mark sometimes, I really do... Suddenly her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. But I can't blame him for loving you. He deserves happiness; he deserves to be loved in return, and the worst part is that I know you could do that for him if I wasn't always standing in the way.
Several minutes passed in absolute silence. Mimi looked a little surprised by herself, but she was obviously relieved to have said everything. I was too shocked to turn my avalanche of thoughts into comprehensible words.
It's not your fault. The sentence came out before I even knew I was going to speak. It isn't. It's mine for being such an asshole all the time.
Roger, don't say that.
Well, I am! I insisted with a sigh. I know it. Not that it means much, but... I'm sorry.
Mimi managed a small, trembling smile. Roger Davis, apologizing? It means more than you think. She echoed my sigh. I'm sorry too. But it's better this way, right?
And it was. It had to be. Knowing that made this whole breaking-up thing marginally easier. I would survive without her. So, we're... we're over, huh?
Yeah. I guess so. Her smile extended a little. I, um, I'm glad we aren't ending things on bad terms. Take care of yourself, okay? And Mark, too.
IYou take care, too. Don't be a stranger, now, I added with a hesitant grin.
I wouldn't think of it. Good luck. She winked, and this time I didn't have to ask to know what she was referring to.
Thanks.
She nodded, her lips pressed together as though she wanted to respond but thought better of it. A moment later she was gone again -- always disappearing, Mimi was, in and out in the blink of an eye -- and I was alone.
There was only one thing left to do.