MORNING * AFTER
Disclaimer: All characters are solely the idea and property of the late Jonathan Larson.
Summary: An R/M relationship is unraveling, but who is M?
* * * *
Girl is cold but so is he
But he's still warm
She's way too kind
When you walked in the morning after
Looking good and you know it
"We can't do this anymore."
He came up behind her and watched her towel off her curly hair in the mirror. The words that she had spoken to him that morning still vibrated through his head, although by now it was edging towards midnight.
Why? Why not? What was so wrong with the two of them being together? He wasn't happy in his current relationship, and neither was she. Yes, it was wrong what they were doing, but he needed it. Needed her, at least for right now.
Three months ago, he would have classified anyone insane for suggesting that they would have ended up together. But now, he really couldn't imagine why the idea had sounded so fanatical and foreign. For him, things were now falling apart, and she equaled the sense of normal that he needed to grasp on to.
Normal. If anything, they had left normal a long time ago. Living in a run down, decrepit apartment building where the rent was obnoxiously high wasn't the life he at least had imagined for himself. He was sure his friends had thought the same for themselves.
"Hello? I'm talking to you?" She turned from the mirror and smiled at him, her eyes almost lighting up underneath the dim bathroom bulb.
"What? Sorry."
"You didn't have that much to drink tonight." She dropped the towel to the floor and brought herself a little closer to him.
"Yeah I know."
"You okay?" She walked over to the couch and brought her knees up to her chest.
He sat himself down next to her and stared at her painted toenails. "I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine. Tell me what's wrong. You can actually talk to me, you know that right?"
"Of course I know that," he laughed. "I'm not just sleeping with you for the hell of it."
She looked hurt and taken aback by his words, but tried to hide it. "You learn something new every day."
"I didn't mean it like that!"
"I know. I know. It's okay." She reached over for his hand and slipped hers through it. "It's fine."
"Why can't we do this anymore?" He stood up, frustrated. "I don't want to hide it anymore."
"You love her though."
He stopped and stared at her. "I do love her. But what we have isn't love anymore."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know if it ever was love."
She rested her head against the arm of the couch. "Same here."
"I sound like an asshole for saying that but—I just don't think it was. It was too complicated, and we were always trying to make it better. She was too jealous, but so was I. It hasn't gotten better."
"But you want it to," she added softly. "If this never happened between us, you'd still be with her."
"I would. But I wouldn't be happy."
"She doesn't know yet, does she?"
He bumped his head against the back of the wall. "No."
She sighed and stood up, grabbing her coat and tossing him his. "Let's go downstairs to my place. They'll be home soon."
"Good idea." He linked his hand through hers while keeping the other in his jacket pocket.
They descended the stairs and reached the apartment. He looked around and she pressed herself against him as she unlocked the door.
"I hate when you do that."
"I just don't want anyone to see us." He pressed his forehead against hers and kissed it softly. "I'm sorry."
"I know. It's okay." She flipped the lights on and hung her jacket up in the closet.
He walked into her bedroom and she followed. "You're always saying it's okay, but it's not. I know I'm hurting you too."
She rested her head against his shoulder and shook it as a tear slipped down her cheek. "You're not."
"Then why are you crying?"
She shrugged and closed her eyes tightly as she felt him pull her close. "I'm not."
"You are." He took his thumb and wiped the tears away, kissing her lips softly.
"You're so damn stubborn."
"Me? How about you?"
He stretched out onto his side and pulled her down next to him. "I want to do this."
"We can't anymore." She bit her lip and started playing with the edge of his shirt.
He started kissing her then, hardly and with passion that she knew was only reserved for her now. "But we will."
"I don't want to stop it."
"Then don't. Neither do I." He lifted her shirt over her head as she did the same with his.
"Is the door locked?" she whispered in his ear.
"I don't care anymore." He unbuttoned her jeans. "We can't lock them out forever."
She closed her eyes, nodded, and handed him the condom. "Just tell me I make you happy. Love's overrated."
"You make me happy Maureen. You do." He kissed her again.
* * * *
They lay there later that night, in the early morning hours as they had done many nights before.
Maureen turned over and clutched the sheet around her chest. "Roger? Are you still awake?"
He didn't respond, so she turned her back to him and clutched the pillow. Then she felt the bed move and felt his body pressed against hers. "I'm awake."
She nodded and fought back the tears again. "Why can't we just—"
Roger draped his arm across her stomach and kissed her. "Shh."
"You need to get going," she reminded him.
He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm tired of leaving you alone. Mimi's probably down at her apartment anyway."
"Did you guys fight again?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He pulled the blankets around them some more and she rested her head on his chest. "Get some sleep and we'll get breakfast or something in the morning."
"But won't Mark—"
"Yes, Mark's gonna ask questions. But I'm not worried about Mark and his fucking questions right now. Go to sleep."
"Okay."
"Night."
He kissed her cheek a final time. "Goodnight."
* * * *
Review and let me know what you think. It's short only because it's the first chapter/prologue but the chapters will get progressively longer.
Lyrics are "Morning After" by Howie Day.