Men and Mascara
Summary: They were never going to be a fairytale...
Author's Note: I was working on another story when this came to me, so I had to write it. It's inspired by Julie Robert's song Men and Mascara- check it out, she has a beautiful voice. I would also like to say thanks to luvcali76 who encouraged me to post more of my stuff- I hope you like this one!
Disclaimer: I don't own them or the song, I just borrowed them for a while, I plomise I'll give them back...
Sunlight drifted in through the faded curtains, waking the young woman sleeping in the tangled sheets of the motel bed. She stretched her arms above her head and sighed. Reaching a hand to touch the man she had fallen asleep with, she was surprised toonly feelcool sheets. She sat up and turned. She was alone in the messy bed.
She slipped from under the covers and reached for her dress that lay on the worn carpet. She forced back tears as she took a sip of wine from the nearly empty bottle on the table. What was she thinking last night? She should have know better than to fall back into bed with him. Cursing her lack of judgement, she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
The scalding water burned her skin, but it felt good, cleansing. She let her forehead rest on the wall of the shower as she sobbed. She could still feel his hands on her skin, still feel his lips on her neck, his words in her ears. Soap couldn't wash away the memories.
It had been three years since she'd seen him last. When she'd gotten dressed up for a night out with friends, she had never expected to run into him. He looked the same, a little rougher, older, but still undeniably sexy. He'd bought her a drink and she'd left her friends at their usual table to sit and talk with him at the bar.
He told her he'd been all over the country, following the newest music scenes and opening up record stores. He hadn't been home since the day he'd left, and he was more than shocked to find her in L.A. She'd laughed and told him she left right after him and made it to L.A. with $200 and a lot of dreams. She said she was happy with her news job, with her glamourous life, but they both knew she was lying.
They'd left the swanky bar to go for a walk and wound up drinking cheap wine from the drugstore on the beach. When he'd moved to press a passionate kiss to her lips, she gave in and let him.
They made-out for a while, both of them drunk and lonely enough to forget the whole mess of the past. They'd walked to the nearest motel, stumbling and touching each other along the way.
He hadn't even put the key in the door before she was kissing him again. He kicked the door closed with his foot as he began to unzip her dress. She was everything he remembered as he eased her onto the bed and kissed her neck. There were far to many clothes between them and she'd practically ripped the buttons of his shirt off.
She ran her hands up his back, tangled her fingers in his hair and cried out as his fingers slipped inside her. He didn't know how much longer he could wait and he was glad when she'd reached for him, guiding him inside her. It was a few moments of heaven for him right there as the headboard crashed against the wall and she'd cried out his name. It was her heaven as he'd come inside her and whispered those three words in her ear.
In the quiet afterwards, he'd laid on top of her for a few moments, catching his breath. He rolled off of her and they'd fallen asleep, her head buried in his chest.
She was sleeping when he woke up. He felt like shit and he knew it was a bad idea to go down that road with her again. He grabbed his clothes and debated leaving a note. In the end, he just walked out. He knew they were never going to be a fairytale.
She put her dress back on and tried to wipe the runny, day old makeup off her face. She told the girl in the mirror not to cry, she should know better. After grabbing her purse and leaving the key, she started to walk home. She tried not to think about him, about his words, about the past. They were way over and last night was just the result of too much wine. Mistakes happen, and she already knew all they'd ever be was a mistake.