Hey everyone. Here's chapter 4. I hope that fanfic.net is working better these days. I couldn't get in for the whole weekend! AAH! Fanfic withdrawl. Please review! Thanks!
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Chapter 4
Vaughn fell asleep halfway through the game, and I realized that he hadn't been lying when he said he was exhausted.
After awhile, I turned down the volume on the game. I had stopped paying attention after I noticed he had fallen asleep beside me. I watched him as he slept, his chest rising and falling slowly, his eyes fluttering every once and awhile at some unknown dream.
I was in love with him.
I remembered something my mother had once told me, a long time ago, before she had left. She told me that if I loved someone, they would be beautiful to me no matter what—whether they were eating, or sick, or fast asleep—they would always be beautiful.
And, at that moment, with his mouth half open and his head tilted awkwardly to the side, Vaughn was gorgeous. Amazing.
I watched him for a few moments longer, before rising from the couch to get a blanket from my bedroom. I returned, sitting down next to him again, trying to ignore the heat that radiated from his body. I gently placed the blanket over him. He mumbled something in his sleep, shifting slightly before falling silent again.
Hesitantly, I reached out to his face, brushing my fingers softly along the stubble of his cheek and chin, reveling in the opportunity to touch him, if only for a moment.
He shifted again, and I jerked my hand away, feeling suddenly guilty for my actions. And for my feelings.
It wasn't fair to him. I couldn't love him and not tell him. It wasn't honest. And the one thing that we did have was honesty.
And, I realized, it wasn't fair to me. I couldn't get my hopes up in moments like these. I couldn't allow myself to start hoping for—to start believing in—something that could never happen.
I could love him, but it would only get him hurt. Or get him killed. And if he died, my life would end.
I backed away from him, rising from the couch cautiously, afraid to wake him. With one last look at his sleeping form, I retreated to my bedroom.
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I woke up the next morning to the sun beaming in through my bedroom window. I squinted, my eyes adjusting to the brightness, and my mind slowly waking up. It took me awhile to remember the events of the night before, but when I did remember, I was flooded with excitement.
He was here. He had spent the night on my couch.
I rolled out of bed, taking a deep breath, and reminded myself of everything I had realized last night. I couldn't love him. We could be friends. Partners. But never anything more. It was too dangerous for both of us.
This was the way things had to be.
And yet, I realized as the excitement in the pit of my stomach refused to go away, love wasn't something I could control. I couldn't tell myself not to love Michael Vaughn. Because it was too late. I already did.
And, I admitted to myself, there was no way I could stop loving him. I wanted to wake up with him in the same house. The same room. The same bed. I wanted to eat breakfast with him, and take walks with him. Hug him. Kiss him. I wanted to be able to love him. And most of all, I wanted to tell him how I felt.
But I knew that I couldn't.
I quickly smoothed my hair back, threw a robe on over my pajamas, and headed out to the living room to wake him up.
My eyes scanned the room, and fell on the couch.
Empty.
He was gone.
My heart sank. My eyes rested on a note, scribbled in his messy handwriting on the back of an old magazine. I picked it up, feeling a lump rise up in my throat as I read the note.
'Syd- Thanks for letting me watch the game. Sorry I fell asleep on you.
See you Monday.
-Vaughn'
I tossed the magazine back on the couch, and collapsed next to it, wishing that he were still here. Wishing that he was always here. And wishing that my life was different.
But this was the way it had to be.
And there was nothing left to do but cry.
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Hope you guys liked it... kind of sad. But don't worry. It will get happy soon :) Review, review, review!!!
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Chapter 4
Vaughn fell asleep halfway through the game, and I realized that he hadn't been lying when he said he was exhausted.
After awhile, I turned down the volume on the game. I had stopped paying attention after I noticed he had fallen asleep beside me. I watched him as he slept, his chest rising and falling slowly, his eyes fluttering every once and awhile at some unknown dream.
I was in love with him.
I remembered something my mother had once told me, a long time ago, before she had left. She told me that if I loved someone, they would be beautiful to me no matter what—whether they were eating, or sick, or fast asleep—they would always be beautiful.
And, at that moment, with his mouth half open and his head tilted awkwardly to the side, Vaughn was gorgeous. Amazing.
I watched him for a few moments longer, before rising from the couch to get a blanket from my bedroom. I returned, sitting down next to him again, trying to ignore the heat that radiated from his body. I gently placed the blanket over him. He mumbled something in his sleep, shifting slightly before falling silent again.
Hesitantly, I reached out to his face, brushing my fingers softly along the stubble of his cheek and chin, reveling in the opportunity to touch him, if only for a moment.
He shifted again, and I jerked my hand away, feeling suddenly guilty for my actions. And for my feelings.
It wasn't fair to him. I couldn't love him and not tell him. It wasn't honest. And the one thing that we did have was honesty.
And, I realized, it wasn't fair to me. I couldn't get my hopes up in moments like these. I couldn't allow myself to start hoping for—to start believing in—something that could never happen.
I could love him, but it would only get him hurt. Or get him killed. And if he died, my life would end.
I backed away from him, rising from the couch cautiously, afraid to wake him. With one last look at his sleeping form, I retreated to my bedroom.
* * * * *
I woke up the next morning to the sun beaming in through my bedroom window. I squinted, my eyes adjusting to the brightness, and my mind slowly waking up. It took me awhile to remember the events of the night before, but when I did remember, I was flooded with excitement.
He was here. He had spent the night on my couch.
I rolled out of bed, taking a deep breath, and reminded myself of everything I had realized last night. I couldn't love him. We could be friends. Partners. But never anything more. It was too dangerous for both of us.
This was the way things had to be.
And yet, I realized as the excitement in the pit of my stomach refused to go away, love wasn't something I could control. I couldn't tell myself not to love Michael Vaughn. Because it was too late. I already did.
And, I admitted to myself, there was no way I could stop loving him. I wanted to wake up with him in the same house. The same room. The same bed. I wanted to eat breakfast with him, and take walks with him. Hug him. Kiss him. I wanted to be able to love him. And most of all, I wanted to tell him how I felt.
But I knew that I couldn't.
I quickly smoothed my hair back, threw a robe on over my pajamas, and headed out to the living room to wake him up.
My eyes scanned the room, and fell on the couch.
Empty.
He was gone.
My heart sank. My eyes rested on a note, scribbled in his messy handwriting on the back of an old magazine. I picked it up, feeling a lump rise up in my throat as I read the note.
'Syd- Thanks for letting me watch the game. Sorry I fell asleep on you.
See you Monday.
-Vaughn'
I tossed the magazine back on the couch, and collapsed next to it, wishing that he were still here. Wishing that he was always here. And wishing that my life was different.
But this was the way it had to be.
And there was nothing left to do but cry.
* * * * *
Hope you guys liked it... kind of sad. But don't worry. It will get happy soon :) Review, review, review!!!