Next chapter will be the last one. Thank you to Sapho's Daughter for you wonderful review.
---------------------------------
Chapter Six: Borrowed Words.
There isn't much of the night you can remember. Everything after she kissed you is hazed, as if her lips cast some sort of spell on you. Or maybe it was the endless line of multicoloured drinks offered to you by pealed off suits looking for something besides alcohol to make them feel less numb.
You didn't turn down a single beverage, offering them a fake smile as payment.
You tried, you really did try. You wanted to feel as much as he did, wanted to forget for just a moment.
His shirt was too crisp for having been worn all day and his hair was a bit too neat for him to blend in with the other souls lost for a way out of their bad days.
In a slick voice he'd told you that he had been watching you all night and you couldn't remember having seen him before he sat down by your side. But he offered you a never ending line of green, blue and clear liquids; from which you took the umbrella and tore it into little pieces while he continued to let you know how your eyes resembled something you cannot remember.
You decided he'd made an effort. That he was as good as anyone but the truth was that you just wanted to stop remembering the feel of her body against yours.
So you didn't stop his hands as they started running over your back, but you frowned at how rough and unimpressionable his touch was. And as he leaned over to breathe drunkenly in your ear how much he wanted to take you home, you accepted, even though his breath made you slightly sick and his words were all wrong.
It was when his chapped lips slammed against yours, making you think of stranded whales and bad memories from behind the gym at recess that you reconsidered.
It was the first time in your life that you ignored a drunken man calling you names as you walked out, leaving him with the scraps of your paper umbrella and realising that despite his best efforts to choke you on his tongue, her lips were still the memory closest to your skin.
You were still escaping in the shield of night and you sullenly wondered if this was the path of your life.
----------------------
You had tossed and turned all night and you continued with the mental equivalent of the same as you made the world ready for the final command of the man in the office.
You had been avoiding her and this time you were sure she'd noticed. The unexplained absence of the Deputy NSA at times of war wasn't one the Chief of Staff would have the luxury to forget.
But you couldn't shake your hurt and anger long enough to be professional in her presence anyway. You're angry at her for toying with you, for not realising how much she's hurting you or perhaps not caring. You're even angrier with yourself for allowing her to do this to you, for allowing her to get to you. But most of all you're petrified because you know the sight of her will rip your chest open and you will invite her in to pour acid in your wounds again.
Still you're not ready for just how her presence will affect you as your office door swings open with force and her seething frame appears in your doorway.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" That was about the last thing you expected from her ad you shock must me evident in your face because her confidence seems to rise as she steps inside and slams your door shut. You find yourself taking a step back, cursing yourself for showing your weakness as the back of your thighs hit your desk. Mentally slapping yourself for lending time to the thought of how stunning she looks as her rage flushes her skin and the passionate force of her words is directed at you alone. You feel a sense of power when you realise that you are the one that has made her blood boil so.
"Excuse me?!" You decide to hide your shock behind anger, making sure you only let her see so much of it because laying all your cards on the table will leave you even more vulnerable for her bite.
"You think you can just treat me like some damned toy?!" Your view on the world turns surreal as she snatches the words from your heart and uses them as her own.
"Wha…" You can't think of anything to say because you're not quite sure what is going on.
Her hands are shaking as she advances on you, her eyes shooting fiery flames of hurt that catches you so off guard you can do nothing but try and close your open mouth as she continues to speak.
"How can you sit in that room, talking to me like nothing has happened? You come in, pretend you actually give a damn and then just run away! Why do you…" You don't let her finish because your heart has reached its limit and is now exploding fiercely hot lava into your chest.
"Because you're breaking my heart!" You cry out as your eyes fill with the salty liquid of your body's turmoil. You no longer care that your body is shaking or that you are baring your throat to her emotional blade. Her evident shock at your outburst doesn't faze you because you no longer care what happens to you after this. "Because every time I see you I am reminded of how I miss being inside your body but how you'll never let me inside your walls!" You can hear your voice shouting as if from a distant mountain, her face is blurred from your vision by the salty rain from your eyes. Your body is cold and numb so you can feel every vein pumping the stinging liquid of your fractured heart.
"I don't understand…" She trails off, her anger replaced with confusion and that soft demeanour that always breaks your will to fight her. But this time you never had a will to begin with, only the instinct to survive.
"I'm the toy." You speak quietly at the floor as your strength subsides. "And I can't be with you because you can't see it." The remains of your pride vanish as you speak those words, the words you've been afraid to think too loudly because they hurt too much.
"How…?" Her whisper barely reaches your ear and even if you can't look at her you can hear from the way the air carries her single word that she is shaking her head.
"I love you CJ." You can't help the wry chuckle breaking through your tear-soaked voice at the absurdity of the turn your conversation has taken. "I'm in love with you. I can't be your release of frustration because it's killing me." You bare your soul to her fangs, offering her the chance to rip it to shreds with her words.
Instead she leaves it exposed for the elements of nature to slowly pick at it until it bleeds to death. You can't describe the void left in you as she walks out that door. You'd cry, except your tears seem trapped behind the numbness of your broken self.
Instead you body surrenders to defeat and slides to the floor. Empty.
-------------------------------------------
She will smile in the last one, I promise.