Title: The Chased Series
Author: Gomey
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know so I can brag...hehe.
Rating: G (though it might vary)
Spoilers: Playing With Fire (3-22)
Disclaimer: All known characters and premises belong to their respective owners. So there.
Summary: Angst runs rampant, frolicking with feelings of longing, dreams and despair.
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"Fire Burns, My Dear Sara"
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I often wonder what he sees when I walk by. Does he see a woman: smart, beautiful, confident...or does he merely see a molecular structured being, complete with ions and atoms circulating around a magnetic core.
Why won't you see me...
I want to know all about him, I want him to know that he's always in my thoughts, that my actions are only for his validation. But every notion, every movement has gone unnoticed, or ceded with wrongful consideration.
Why won't you listen to me...
This isn't the first time I've secretly given chase to him down the hall, each time the outcome altered by either an outside factor or my own personal demons. Rejection doesn't scare me – I just fear it from that man. Courage summed up, I approached him today with expectations of minute interest, but all prospects were quelled by an un-piteous answer.
Why won't you think of me...
This enigmatic mystery, this maze without a map, this conundrum lacking hints is something I've been working until exhaustion to solve. And I fear that I will never cease searching for the elusive answers to his past – revelations he selfishly keeps to himself, save for one strawberried-blonde who seems to know him better than he knows himself.
Why won't you trust me...
What do they talk about when they think the world is no longer listening? Does he laugh at her jokes or smile at her comments? Do his eyes light up whenever he sees her smile? Does he check her out, giving her the once...twice...three times over when he thinks she isn't looking? Does he dream about her at night? Dream about her touch, her kisses...her love? And I sit here, every bone in my body wanting to vehemently deny those looks, those touches, those feelings that pass between them; wanting to claim fabrication – but I can't. Because...because I can't lie.
...why won't you love me instead?
--Finis--