Disclaimer: don't own anything other than my twisted mind and imagination.

Pairing: H/M/S(?)

A/N: found this scribbled down in my English notebook, just goes to prove how bored/distracted/upset I was, especially around Christmas time last year.

There's a flower that can only bloom for one night;

There's a creature that can only live from sunrise to sunset.

There's a kind of person that you knew you can trust from the first glance;

And there's a love that you knew how it would end before it even began.
-
Dear Megan,

You must be asleep now, at least that's what I think. In a city unfamiliar to me, in a room I've never been to, in a bed I probably would never have a chance to lie down in, and maybe­just maybe, I hope not­with another man.

These days I've confirmed even further the fact that nothing is certain. You want proof? Here's one.

It's quarter past one in the morning, the last Wednesday before Christmas. I'm sitting in the trace lab, running some tests. Yes, you probably would have guessed it; another case, another double shift. When we hear the word Christmas, we think about Christmas tree and the presents under it, and snow. Pure white snow falling on quiet countryside villages. Quiet and peaceful.

But instead, this is our early present, a murder case. Ironic, isn't it?

Last night I tried to call you again; I had hoped to hear your voice, and maybe even gather up enough courage to try to persuade you to come back. Yes, a familiar voice did come through the phone, the robotic one, asking me politely to leave you a message. I remember holding the phone, not being able to move for moments, as if I was petrified, with the robotic voice still repeating in my head like a broken record.

I've tried; you should know that. I left you messages from time to time, reminding you to call me back in the end of all of them, hoping that one day it would finally get to you how much I miss you, and how much pain you've caused by this selfish action. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised at all; maybe everything between us was over, even before last night. With one swift move you broke every single bond between us: dreams, promises, and love. Yes, I do blame myself; how could I have reacted so slowly? That day after you left, I went home and slept through the night without waking up once, until it's morning. When I opened my eyes, I realized that it wasn't the sun or alarm clock that shook me out of my slumber­it was pain.

My head, chest, spine­every single micrometer of my body­was aching. I had a dream, Megan. A nightmare.

In my nightmare I sat in a tiny wooden boat as it tumbled down a river; I had a feeling that the river was intentionally trying to tear the boat apart and drown me, or it wouldn't rock this boat with such violence and force. And on the shore, every time I glanced at the shore, you'd be there, waving and smiling, and I couldn't ever get near you.

Maybe I wasn't exactly a passenger in that boat; maybe I was the boat itself. I can't carry much in me, so all I can do is keep on shaking and shivering, hoping that the river would finally push me to the safety of the shore, of you. I still remember that when you were upset you used to say, "I don't want to know anything!" Maybe it is best not to know anything; don't tell me the real meaning of this dream, even if there is one.

­You've left. Yes, you left. It's been over a month now. The "you" that remains in me is merely a shadow that you probably forgot to pack. What can I say to a shadow? And how am I supposed to embrace it? Sometimes I even can't remember your face, your voice, the warmth and scent of your body; all that's left in me is your shadow… and I know that eventually one day, I would never find you again, not even the shadow.

Now the details were starting to coming out, I wondered about what we had, and if I truly believed that we could keep it forever.

Why am I still thinking about you, anyway?

I had vowed to myself that I would stay forever detached... and then you came along, taking apart the walls I've built, until every single brick had fell on the ground.

Maybe that's why you left; there's nothing left for you to break down, no more pain for you to salvage.

Until you're gone.

And you're not coming back to fix what you broke.

Thanks a lot Megan...