The O.C
Circular
Author: Alba's Room
Summary: She was the one that always walked away but it was her that always came back. Too bad it's not enough. One-shot, short drabble that was inspired by 'The Return of the Nana.'
Disclaimer: I don't own the O.C or the characters. Josh Schwartz holds that honour.
She would shake her head and she would look up at him, her eyes sad but accusing.
"I think we need to take a break," she would say.
"What did I do this time?" he would ask, as he looked at her. His eyes would widen and take on that puppy-dog look they did so well and it would take all her strength to sigh and walk away.
"What you do every time," she would answer as she glided off.
"I just don't get it," he would tell Ryan later. "Why is it always my fault?"
"Because you can't do anything right," Ryan would reply, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"Right," Seth would answer. "Not helping right now. What would you do if Marissa did the same thing to you?"
"I'd let her go, man," Ryan would reply, sorry he had to be so truthful. "If it's not working, why would you keep going back?"
"I just, I don't even know what I did wrong," Seth would sigh. "I never know. How are we supposed to work things out if I don't know what's wrong."
"You could ask her."
"But then she gets angry at me for not knowing what I did wrong," Seth would say, his voice rising slightly. Ryan would shrug and offer him a smile.
"Sucks to be you," he would reply. They would lapse into silence. "What are you going to do if she comes back?"
"I don't know." A shrug and another long silence. "I guess we'll see what happens."
Seth would leave the pool-house and Ryan would lean over to call his girl. The two would complain that Summer and Seth had broken up again and they would come to the inevitable decision that this time, it was forever or it was never.
"Cohen," her voice would say, all sugary sweetness. She would look up at him, her eyes sad and pleading. He would stare down at her, no emotion showing on his face. "Can we talk?"
"I don't know, Summer," he would say, his voice accusing. "I'm a little worried I might hurt your feelings or that you might need to take a break from the conversation."
"Right," she would say, looking down. She deserved that. "Listen, I just wanted to say that…"
"What? That you're sorry?" he would explode. "That you think it's ok for you to keep leaving and coming back? That it's ok for you to build me up and then bring me down? That you're the only one who has power in this relationship?"
She would bite her lip and fiddle with the clasp on her bag, one foot tapping. Eventually she would glance up at him as tears filled her eyes. One would inevitably escape from her lid and trail down her face. He would swallow and try to keep his stance.
"No answer?" he would ask, staring down at her. His own voice would break as he looked at her. "I've wanted you since I was six years old. You are the only girl I have ever been in love with and I thought that maybe you had changed from that spoilt, selfish girl. But, Summer, you haven't changed. You're still the same old girl that's used to getting exactly what she wants. But you know what else? I've had enough. I can't take this anymore, not knowing whether we're together from one day to the next or now knowing whether I've disappointed you or done something to displease. And I also can't take you leaving and then deciding to come back."
"What are you saying?" she would ask, her chin trembling and the lump growing in her throat. This was not normal. This was not how the scrip went. They should be kissing right now.
"I'm saying that this is it," he would say, willing his own self not to cry. "This break is permanent."
And then he would turn on his heel and walk away, leaving her to stare after him.
This time, he would leave, and he would not come back.
The circle was broken.
