Theme Song: This Love (Maroon Five)
Susan wasn't in bed when he woke up. He found her sitting on the steps outside, watching the sunrise. "Good morning."
She turned, surprised at his voice in the silence. "Oh, hey." She smiled and turned back to the sunrise. It was half over but the sea looked like molten gold and copper sprinkled with sapphires and emeralds and diamonds.
Mark sat beside her. "Doesn't get much better than this." He sighed.
"Yeah." She whispered, smiling and turning to him.
He smiled back, letting his eyes linger in hers just a little too long.
She didn't mind, but he didn't know that.
She felt stunning. They'd been up and down a volcano, or most of one, that morning, then swum, sunbathed and swum some more. Her skin was tingling with too much sun and a hot shower. Her hair was looking blonder than normal and bouncing in the dry heat. It was eight o'clock at night and she was wide-awake. She wanted to dance without inhibition, drink more than she should and dance with even less inhibition. And she'd dressed for it when she suggested the idea to Mark. How could he turn her down?
He was dancing with her but he felt like a spectator. And not just because he'd drunk less. He had wanted to tell her tonight. But he wouldn't tell her while she was drunk. And it might slip out if he was. So he was trying to slip into that uninhibited daze that strobe lights and alcohol enable. But without nearly enough alcohol.
She had her arms above her head and her eyes shut. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, still jumping and swinging her hips smoothly side to side. She could kiss him. It would be that simple. If he threw her off she'd apologise and pretend she was drunker. If he didn't…
No. It wasn't worth it. They had this incredible friendship. It had the potential to be so much more, but it was certainly not going to start with a drink-induced fling. She wasn't that drunk. She knew she couldn't risk him on indulging her lonely adoration.
She shut her eyes and fell back into the music, aware of every time he touched her as they were pushed together by the throng of dancers in the dizzying lights.
She stumbled only a few feet from the club. Mark had his arm around her in a fraction of a second. She was laughing but he only smiled. She still took his breath away, though she smelt of alcohol and smoke, her hair being creative all on it's own. The way her dress clung to the heat of her body and the sound of her laugh made up for anything.
She got her balance back and pushed herself away from him. It was too tempting. She'd walk on her own.
And she did. She got to their room without much damage. Mark reached out to her a couple more times but soon took the hint. Either he repulsed her or she was trying to convince him that she wasn't that drunk. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted her to sleep it off and sober up so he could get three frustrating little words out of his system. And then good riddance. He sighed and got a look that asked 'what?'
She grabbed the banister, losing her balance on the steps.
He reached out without a thought. It was the most natural thing in the world for him to try to save her. But he didn't quell the impulse this time. They were only meters from her bed. So he slipped his arm around her waist and didn't let go only to be surprised that she didn't struggle at all. She let her head rest on his shoulder and leant into him, stepping carefully through the door way and sitting heavily on her bed.
He let her go and went to the kitchenette. When he came back with a tall glass of cool water she had awkwardly pulled the blankets away underneath her but hadn't the energy to get under them. She let strappy sandals drop to the floor.
"Here, drink this." He sat on his bed and passed her the drink, letting her pull herself up to drink it. She would have taken his help but he was getting tired of being pushed away and she wasn't in any danger now so he didn't feel the need to try. He was so tired. Tired of pretending, mostly.
She emptied the glass and forced herself to get into bed.
He wanted her to say something. Anything. But she didn't.
Fortunately he was too tired to watch her sleep, wishing she'd love him even a fraction of the way he did her.
Susan wasn't in bed when he woke up. He found her sitting on the steps outside, watching the sunrise. "Good morning."
She turned, surprised at his voice in the silence. "Oh, hey." She smiled and turned back to the sunrise. It was half over but the sea looked like molten gold and copper sprinkled with sapphires and emeralds and diamonds.
Mark sat beside her. "Doesn't get much better than this." He sighed.
"Yeah." She whispered, smiling and turning to him.
He smiled back, letting his eyes linger in hers just a little too long.
She didn't mind, but he didn't know that.
She felt stunning. They'd been up and down a volcano, or most of one, that morning, then swum, sunbathed and swum some more. Her skin was tingling with too much sun and a hot shower. Her hair was looking blonder than normal and bouncing in the dry heat. It was eight o'clock at night and she was wide-awake. She wanted to dance without inhibition, drink more than she should and dance with even less inhibition. And she'd dressed for it when she suggested the idea to Mark. How could he turn her down?
He was dancing with her but he felt like a spectator. And not just because he'd drunk less. He had wanted to tell her tonight. But he wouldn't tell her while she was drunk. And it might slip out if he was. So he was trying to slip into that uninhibited daze that strobe lights and alcohol enable. But without nearly enough alcohol.
She had her arms above her head and her eyes shut. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, still jumping and swinging her hips smoothly side to side. She could kiss him. It would be that simple. If he threw her off she'd apologise and pretend she was drunker. If he didn't…
No. It wasn't worth it. They had this incredible friendship. It had the potential to be so much more, but it was certainly not going to start with a drink-induced fling. She wasn't that drunk. She knew she couldn't risk him on indulging her lonely adoration.
She shut her eyes and fell back into the music, aware of every time he touched her as they were pushed together by the throng of dancers in the dizzying lights.
She stumbled only a few feet from the club. Mark had his arm around her in a fraction of a second. She was laughing but he only smiled. She still took his breath away, though she smelt of alcohol and smoke, her hair being creative all on it's own. The way her dress clung to the heat of her body and the sound of her laugh made up for anything.
She got her balance back and pushed herself away from him. It was too tempting. She'd walk on her own.
And she did. She got to their room without much damage. Mark reached out to her a couple more times but soon took the hint. Either he repulsed her or she was trying to convince him that she wasn't that drunk. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted her to sleep it off and sober up so he could get three frustrating little words out of his system. And then good riddance. He sighed and got a look that asked 'what?'
She grabbed the banister, losing her balance on the steps.
He reached out without a thought. It was the most natural thing in the world for him to try to save her. But he didn't quell the impulse this time. They were only meters from her bed. So he slipped his arm around her waist and didn't let go only to be surprised that she didn't struggle at all. She let her head rest on his shoulder and leant into him, stepping carefully through the door way and sitting heavily on her bed.
He let her go and went to the kitchenette. When he came back with a tall glass of cool water she had awkwardly pulled the blankets away underneath her but hadn't the energy to get under them. She let strappy sandals drop to the floor.
"Here, drink this." He sat on his bed and passed her the drink, letting her pull herself up to drink it. She would have taken his help but he was getting tired of being pushed away and she wasn't in any danger now so he didn't feel the need to try. He was so tired. Tired of pretending, mostly.
She emptied the glass and forced herself to get into bed.
He wanted her to say something. Anything. But she didn't.
Fortunately he was too tired to watch her sleep, wishing she'd love him even a fraction of the way he did her.