Title: The Prince Of Tides- It Was Never Really There
Author: Kaitlyn
Summary: "Man wonders and God decides When to kill the Prince of Tides"
Rating: PG-13
She supposed, in that moment, that it was not until you realized just how lost something was to you that you truly craved it. Like a lonesome teddy bear that's been disregarded for years, but is not appreciated nor adored until it's child has been ordered to give it away. Like a cone of ice cream on a sweltering day that you don't know you want until you see the sign advertising it.
Like a negative sign on a pregnancy test that she bought out of fear to begin with.
She was not pregnant. When he had initially asked her, she had shaken her head, proclaiming feeble ignorance, but she had known the answer all along. Deep down, she had sensed that she had never been with child. And at first, the reaffirming pregnancy test had supplied her with the calm reassurance she had needed to face him again. In the days to follow, however, she began to feel that slow itch that she just couldn't shake.
She wanted it. She wanted it like she never thought she could want anything. The only frame of comparison that she could muster up inside her memory was the first night that she had been with Ross. Lying on the bearskin rug underneath the faux expanse of starlight, she had experienced a desire that had frightened her with it's intensity and total disregard for her own self-control. Now, she knew she wanted this just as badly as she had wanted him that night, and that scared her.
Her first thoughts were of how selfish she was being. Who would create a child who's only hope was to suffer? She was sick. She was morbid. She couldn't even assure the continuation of her own life at this point, and yet, she was so adamantly racing towards the possibility of creating a new one with a reckless abandon that had not been experienced since the Lost Generation. What would he think of her if he knew? It was so unlike her. It would probably disgust him.
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She ran her hands over the silky smooth Mahogany of the coffee table, lost in thought. She hummed a low, sweet melody underneath her breath, leaving it's exact rhythm a mystery to the empty room. The window in the living room was open, and she imagined that her voice floated upwards and out over the city on a sweet draft of the approaching summer's air. The tune was charged with a certain melancholy that she had come to only associate with the inside of the increasingly dreary apartment, and it made her sad in a very peculiar way to know that it was now escaping onto the streets below.
A quick step could suddenly be heard on the stairwell, and before she knew it, he was inside the door. It had apparently begun to rain at some point during the evening without her noticing, as his hair and jacket were fairly drenched. He shook her head, divesting his hair of the excess water, and removed his soaked jacket to hang it up on the coat rack. Their only acknowledgement of one another were the forced grins they exchanged before averting their eyes and remaining completely still.
The tension when he had left for work that morning had been palpable between them. They both knew that, by the time he got home, she would have taken the test and their lives could potentially have changed forever. Rather than hurrying to her in an excited frenzy, he stayed glued to that spot in front of the door. Needless to say, this broke her spirits a tiny bit more.
Finally, with the timid hesitance of a frightened animal, he approached the couch and took the seat next to her. Neither of them really had to say anything. She shook her head, anyway. The deep puff of air that he let out was too much for her, and she had to turn her head away from him to hide her tears.
"Rach? What's wrong?" When he touched her shoulder, she flinched, and that scared him even more than her. He pulled his hand away as if he's been burned, and placed it back in his lap. He was so confused. This made no sense. He thought this had been what they both had wanted. Unless...
"Rachel...is this about the cancer? Is something...Has something happened?"
With her head still turned awkwardly away from him, she managed a muffled "no".
"Well then what's the matter?" He wanted so badly to touch her. He felt that if he could just take her in his arms, he would magically be able to understand everything she was feeling. Something told him that her words wouldn't be adequate.
Her tear-streaked face turned back to face him. It seemed like that was all he was seeing of her lately- a tear-streaked face. Things had been going so well, but then this decadence back to their lives as they had been a month ago caught them both off-guard. Her chin began to tremble and her eyes darted to the side, refusing to meet his stare. Then, she succumbed completely to him, letting herself collapse into his arms.
"I wanted it. I wanted it so badly." Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades and he could feel her salty tears and warm breath on his chest. He didn't know what to say. He had no idea she felt this way, and everything that had occurred since he'd arrived home had seemed like a foggy dream. His actions had been robotic and uncontrollable- he had just been going through the motions, as if he'd had no real power over them. And now...now this.
He just stroked her hair and gripped her tightly to himself, whispering words of consolation and reassurance. He didn't know if he felt the same way, but he knew that he was tired of seeing her hurt. He was tired of seeing her in pain. He just wanted, for once, to be able to give her something that she wanted- something that she needed. He wanted to take away the faceless enemy that was invading her body. He wanted to give her the child she had probably wanted since she was 14. He wanted to buy her the house in Westchester with the white picket fence and the sailboat that they could take out every weekend. He wanted for her all the things that she deserved but had never really been there.
(Note: Don't worry, there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. Review, review, review.)
Author: Kaitlyn
Summary: "Man wonders and God decides When to kill the Prince of Tides"
Rating: PG-13
She supposed, in that moment, that it was not until you realized just how lost something was to you that you truly craved it. Like a lonesome teddy bear that's been disregarded for years, but is not appreciated nor adored until it's child has been ordered to give it away. Like a cone of ice cream on a sweltering day that you don't know you want until you see the sign advertising it.
Like a negative sign on a pregnancy test that she bought out of fear to begin with.
She was not pregnant. When he had initially asked her, she had shaken her head, proclaiming feeble ignorance, but she had known the answer all along. Deep down, she had sensed that she had never been with child. And at first, the reaffirming pregnancy test had supplied her with the calm reassurance she had needed to face him again. In the days to follow, however, she began to feel that slow itch that she just couldn't shake.
She wanted it. She wanted it like she never thought she could want anything. The only frame of comparison that she could muster up inside her memory was the first night that she had been with Ross. Lying on the bearskin rug underneath the faux expanse of starlight, she had experienced a desire that had frightened her with it's intensity and total disregard for her own self-control. Now, she knew she wanted this just as badly as she had wanted him that night, and that scared her.
Her first thoughts were of how selfish she was being. Who would create a child who's only hope was to suffer? She was sick. She was morbid. She couldn't even assure the continuation of her own life at this point, and yet, she was so adamantly racing towards the possibility of creating a new one with a reckless abandon that had not been experienced since the Lost Generation. What would he think of her if he knew? It was so unlike her. It would probably disgust him.
**********************************************************************************
She ran her hands over the silky smooth Mahogany of the coffee table, lost in thought. She hummed a low, sweet melody underneath her breath, leaving it's exact rhythm a mystery to the empty room. The window in the living room was open, and she imagined that her voice floated upwards and out over the city on a sweet draft of the approaching summer's air. The tune was charged with a certain melancholy that she had come to only associate with the inside of the increasingly dreary apartment, and it made her sad in a very peculiar way to know that it was now escaping onto the streets below.
A quick step could suddenly be heard on the stairwell, and before she knew it, he was inside the door. It had apparently begun to rain at some point during the evening without her noticing, as his hair and jacket were fairly drenched. He shook her head, divesting his hair of the excess water, and removed his soaked jacket to hang it up on the coat rack. Their only acknowledgement of one another were the forced grins they exchanged before averting their eyes and remaining completely still.
The tension when he had left for work that morning had been palpable between them. They both knew that, by the time he got home, she would have taken the test and their lives could potentially have changed forever. Rather than hurrying to her in an excited frenzy, he stayed glued to that spot in front of the door. Needless to say, this broke her spirits a tiny bit more.
Finally, with the timid hesitance of a frightened animal, he approached the couch and took the seat next to her. Neither of them really had to say anything. She shook her head, anyway. The deep puff of air that he let out was too much for her, and she had to turn her head away from him to hide her tears.
"Rach? What's wrong?" When he touched her shoulder, she flinched, and that scared him even more than her. He pulled his hand away as if he's been burned, and placed it back in his lap. He was so confused. This made no sense. He thought this had been what they both had wanted. Unless...
"Rachel...is this about the cancer? Is something...Has something happened?"
With her head still turned awkwardly away from him, she managed a muffled "no".
"Well then what's the matter?" He wanted so badly to touch her. He felt that if he could just take her in his arms, he would magically be able to understand everything she was feeling. Something told him that her words wouldn't be adequate.
Her tear-streaked face turned back to face him. It seemed like that was all he was seeing of her lately- a tear-streaked face. Things had been going so well, but then this decadence back to their lives as they had been a month ago caught them both off-guard. Her chin began to tremble and her eyes darted to the side, refusing to meet his stare. Then, she succumbed completely to him, letting herself collapse into his arms.
"I wanted it. I wanted it so badly." Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades and he could feel her salty tears and warm breath on his chest. He didn't know what to say. He had no idea she felt this way, and everything that had occurred since he'd arrived home had seemed like a foggy dream. His actions had been robotic and uncontrollable- he had just been going through the motions, as if he'd had no real power over them. And now...now this.
He just stroked her hair and gripped her tightly to himself, whispering words of consolation and reassurance. He didn't know if he felt the same way, but he knew that he was tired of seeing her hurt. He was tired of seeing her in pain. He just wanted, for once, to be able to give her something that she wanted- something that she needed. He wanted to take away the faceless enemy that was invading her body. He wanted to give her the child she had probably wanted since she was 14. He wanted to buy her the house in Westchester with the white picket fence and the sailboat that they could take out every weekend. He wanted for her all the things that she deserved but had never really been there.
(Note: Don't worry, there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. Review, review, review.)