Disclaimer: I don't own them, obviously.
Dedicated to Lavender Gaia for being the greatest Lancitty lover I know.
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His hands, in hers, were cold, but she couldn't let go. She didn't want to let go. She wasn't sure how it had come to this; the two of them standing alone amid the frozen rain.
They had come so far, building their relationship up from the grounds of their glaring differences. She had a family that loved her, friends that supported her, and a temperament that could melt even the coldest of hearts. He had no family, a collection of untrustworthy allies, and a volatile temper. His heart had been hardened from years of pain. But they'd pushed such differences aside, immersed only in each other, and had risen high above all expectations. And in that, as Hamlet said, lies the rub. For the higher they rose, the greater the distance was to fall.
She had allowed herself to be blinded by love and he, for the first time in years, had become enraptured by hope. But the world had been right in the end. A "hood" could never become a knight, and a princess could never remove herself from her golden pedestal.
The fall had not been the slow, stomach-churning deterioration cushioned by time, but the sudden impact of a dream shattering against reality. Love and hope were pretty ideas, but they couldn't stand against the ugly truth.
He tried, half-heartedly, to pull away, but she tightened her grasp. If he had really wanted to leave she would be powerless to stop him. But there was something in her eyes that ebbed away his overwhelming pride, something that kept him rooted to the spot, his hands in hers.
She opened her mouth but no words came out, and he shook his head. His shaggy bangs fell over his eyes and were plastered to his skin with the kiss of heaven's tears. She stepped towards him, her hand brushing softly against his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as she swept his bangs away. "We can't do this," it was a moan, a whisper, a silent plea spurred from inner fear. "I'm no good for you."
"Isn't that for me to decide?" She buried her face into his neck, her tears joining rivulets of rain.
He pulled away, holding her at a distance. Her hands were cold now, limp at her sides without his to hold. "I can't hurt you again."
She desperately wanted to say that he wouldn't, to ignite a false promise that would last until this sense of urgency faded away. But they both knew that this wasn't true. His pain was her pain and hers was his, and in their twisted cycle there is no way to avoid such hurt.
He stepped away, the intention clear in his eyes. He wouldn't let her hands halt him this time. He would hurt her for one last time, but the pain would slowly fade, and he would hinder her life no more.
"But Lance," the whisper was broken as she tried to suppress a sob. "I need you."
The words cut open wounds, old and new, and fresh blood spilled out with ancient guilt. He stopped and turned, eyes clouded with emotion, hands shaking at his side. "No."
"Yes."
"Kitty," his voice was thick with raw emotion and he turned his head away, he couldn't let her see him cry. But her hands were on his face, brushing tears aside, and he stepped into her embrace.
His hands were on her waist, her arms around his neck, and her forehead soft against his chin. He kissed her hairline gently, stray hairs tickling his lips as rain and tears ran as one. "I'm no good for you," the promise hung heavy in the air, a reminder of it all.
She lifted her head and smiled, her lips light against his. "No, but you're all I need."
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A/N: It's short, I know, and they're probably terribly out of character, but I was in a bit of a melancholy mood and was seized by this idea. Actually, I just sat down with blank paper and this beautiful new blue pen with no coherent thoughts, and this all came pouring out. I think my pen possessed me. Oh, and the last line was originally "That's all I need," in case you were curious . . . but I changed it, for no real reason. Yes, I am clearly tired . . .
Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!
-DOJ