Rating : T
Warnings : alcohol reference, language, some illustration of mental trauma
Pairing : polarshipping
Colour : blue
Musical inspiration : Stay with Me - Diamond Eyes & Christina Grimmie
Requested by: (requester has asked to remain anonymous)
In the restless dark, knocks rattled the front door its very frame.
Then, as if she could blow it off the hinges, she started yelling.
Or, it sounded like it in her own ears.
Everything was … too loud … too close.
She was mumbling at the door. Rubbing at her arms. Casting scowls over her shoulder.
Snowflakes glimmered in the night. Unnatural heat brimmed within. Overflowed. Pouring out of her with every laboured breath. Little clouds disappearing between slower knocks.
Words beginning to trail into shaking breaths.
Nothing.
"Fine!"
It tore out of her.
"I'm too goddamn…" Words stewed in quick anger then faded. "God… damn… good for you. And you knew it too you…"
Bastard.
Trembling hand raised, her nails scraped wood and worn door numbers.
God.
You're everything.
"That's why you let me…"
Go.
Fingers smeared red away from her lips. Tried to keep the sound in.
She stumbled away from the door.
Stopped.
The stairwell swam.
A familiar growl wavered on the dark made the whole of her tremble.
Low and tired.
Like her.
All the times he'd been there.
He was still there.
She turned.
Blurry eyes met widening ones.
And it took every bit of the breath from his lungs,
"Mai."
Cold bolted through.
Woke her.
Never mind.
"I…" She reached for her suddenly pounding head. "I have to go."
She turned.
Unraveled.
Under his hands taking her shoulders and tuning her around again.
Under his quivering smile.
"Guess ya got better balance with the heels huh…"
Hooked fingers clenched around forgotten straps in her hand.
I can't do this.
With a clatter, her shoes hit the floor.
Then they were both stumbling into the dark of his apartment.
She wouldn't let go.
Not when the whole of him was frighteningly real. This time. Not a dream. Like fire. Under her fingertips, clumsy twists in his shirt. Against the rest of her.
Unmoving.
"Mai what are ya'—"
His shuddering exhale was warm itself.
"Sleep with me."
I need to sleep.
Even while she tugged at his clothes, he pulled her hands away.
Put a step's space between them.
A long moment passed.
He let go.
"Ya'… drunk."
He never sounded so quiet, so careful.
She hated it.
"Ya' don't know what ya' sayin'."
"I'm not drunk."
It didn't matter.
There wasn't any difference.
"I know what I said."
He didn't want any of this.
Maybe he never had.
It was all in my head.
We're friends.
"Ya' crashin' here." He gestured to the blackness of the hallway. "I'll take the couch."
Just friends.
"No. I'll…"
I don't want to be here.
Suddenly the world slipped off its axis.
And he was there.
Just the ways she'd wanted. Arms under. Her back. Her legs. Then more. Blankets and sheets and pillows all soft and crinkling under her.
The dark figure there for once not the unnamed things. Bright-eyed. Hissing. Shuddering things. Claws digging into her arms.
Just his hands.
A familiar shape.
Wavering by fatigue onsetting.
Alcohol warming.
Everything began to turn black.
I can't do this!
Screams crushed into whispers.
Sobs.
What she'd meant to say.
Always.
"Don't leave."
Under her hands, his chest tightened.
"Mai—"
Forget my pride.
"Please."
A moment passed.
Forever.
Seconds.
"Ah'right."
Her hands left him only to find him again. Fingers slowly clawing his shirt back into her palms as the bed creaked with his settling at her side.
In the quiet, she knew him.
Near-silent breaths and the steadying fall and rise of his chest nearly meeting her hands.
Slowly loosening grip.
For once…
I'm okay.
They slid over her.
Ease.
Sleep.
In dimness and fluttering lashes everything began to fade away.