Rating: PG because of the language used
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters used in this fiction.
A/N: The person whose perspective this is written from isn't known, although I know, but I wrote it with deliberate ambiguity so it was left open for the reader to interpret. If you want to guess feel free and I may just tell you :p
***
It hit you like a shock of cold water, icicles seeping through
your skin and in that moment you just *know*. Know you can't continue
without him. Know it's impossible to continue living with the
knowledge that he remains blissfully oblivious to it all, to you. And
you freeze, feet stapled to the ground, eyes rigid in their sudden
realisation, keenly aware that everything you are about to do is
something you can't stop.
Fate is a funny thing, you ponder
as you move stealthily through the cold, dank halls, seeking out the
only one that could get right under your skin, right into your heart
and soul and actually make you *feel*, the one you know you need more
than life itself.
When you finally find him, walking towards
you, getting closer and closer with each of his slow, deliberate
steps you cease all movement and simply watch and bask in his
presence, finally giving into a need that has driven you for 6 years.
A need that has consumed your whole life, your whole reason for
living, consumed everything that is so inherently *you* and this new
realisation causes you to forget why you are standing in the middle
of a hallway, watching the ethereal creature standing before you with
a kind of lust-driven dependency that would be painfully obvious to
anyone but *him*.
He clears his throat, his deep, green eyes
boring into you. You've always loved his eyes, you could always feel
yourself temporarily lost when you gaze straight through to his soul.
Your mind begins to tick over, desperately seeking the words you
require to make him finally *see* you but the proximity of him and
those god damned eyes hinder any thoughts you may have previously
had.
You cast your eyes around, searching for something to
distract you from the beautiful face hovering before you. You settle
for the painting over his left shoulder and you stare at it, eyes
fixed in momentary contemplation, reflecting on all the built up
tension, anger and pure wanting that 6 years of repressed emotion has
left in you and you do the only thing that makes sense, the only
thing you can do, so you take a crucial step forward, watching,
crestfallen, as he backs away.
You bristle indignantly,
seeking out his eyes and almost losing yourself in his emerald depths
before you resolutely close the gap that stands so stubbornly between
you and your inevitable Fate and you lean forward, agonizingly slow,
and take his mouth with yours.
He jerks back, a look of
utmost disgust and horror etched into his face that even manages to
filter straight to his beautiful eyes. He grimaces distastefully when
he finally gets over his shock and wipes his lips with the back of
his hand.
"What the fuck is your problem?" He
spits with such venom that you feel yourself flinch as his words
sting you, causing your heart to shatter and your mind to paralyze.
Your mouth dries up and you know that words would not, could
not, ever suffice and you stare at him, hoping he can see your soul
bleeding through your eyes. But he doesn't, and right then you know
he never will and he turns abruptly, stalking away from you, eyes
alight with such anger and hatred that you feel your knees buckle and
jerk, your whole body collapsing in a heap onto the cold, stone
floor, feeling that hot burning sensation in the back of your eyes
and you lay there, salty tears streaming down your cheeks, a silent
sign that you will lay there forever, your soul bleeding, your heart
broken, forever dying for him.
End.