Author's Note:
Rating: T
Notes: Wrote this in... 20 minutes, without any pre-planning. (Compare this to two weeks, my average time.) And if something doesn't make much sense, that means it doesn't matter. After noticing that Vincent has been horribly out of character, I hoped to bring him back in a bit with this. I don't know if it worked, but we'll see. (AKA, you'll tell me. Right? (x )
Music: Apologize by OneRepublic.
Timeline: Post-DOC. Like, a month. It doesn't really matter when.
Drabbletine Summary: He swore he'd never be her Edward Cullen.
Disclaimer: I'm trying a new writing style a—oh. You mean the owning things thing? Don't own, don't sue. Oh—I actually dislike Twilight. (Sorry Twilightubers.)
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apologize;
She always said she gave him crazy ideas, (she said) that she knew she did, even if he hid them, and maybe so. But she's always said a lot of things, and that doesn't make them all right, but right now she says they're all invited and it gives him a crazy idea, which he flat out rejects, because crazy ideas aren't the way he does things, and he refuses to her Edward Cullen, or whatever she's always chattering about. Still, he knows that he's going (there, not going to be) anyway, because someone has to look out for her, and that's not going to be Reno, because he's only looking out for one thing, and it's not her. She's still too young for this, and she knows it, but she's also too old for this, so that's why she does it all, and her juvenile, childish, flat-out crazy heart can't help what it does, but she knows better than to trust Reno, but she does anyway, and Vincent does understand, but it doesn't stop it all from being less juvenile or less childish.
And that decides it, and now the self-delusion comes easily—she does need protection—and after that, all that's left is the part when his mind says no and then he decides not to, but that part never comes—maybe it was distracted when she caught his eye on the way out of the room—and while something tells him this isn't a good idea, that doesn't stop him from deciding (to, not deciding to not).
Because he knows it's childish, and juvenile, and flat-out crazy, but she said she always gave him crazy ideas, and maybe so.
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Arriving late to the dance wasn't quite part of his plan, but he decides that it doesn't really matter and slips his mask on, and he finds himself hesitating outside before plunging inside, 'cause it's that moment when he enters the room—all those people—that the panic hits, and maybe that's why he goes straight to the bar, but he doesn't think so, because he doesn't order anything, he just sits there. Waiting is a skill that she never seemed to master, because he catches sight of her standing across the room.
Somebody should tell her that a mask doesn't change the fact that she's one of the shortest people in the room, he decides, and finds himself already standing, walking across the room, and then he's so close (so close) to reaching her, when Reno puts a hand on the crook of her arm, and turns her around. He doesn't see her expression, but he was good at reading body language back at ShinRa, and he knows that expression on his face.
That's when he gets that sick taste in his mouth, and actually starts to hate Reno, because who the **** is he to take advantage of a naive, vulnerable, innocent girl, and he wants to stop him, stop them, but he doesn't know what's the right thing to do, so he settles back into what feels comfortable: slipping back to his chair at the back, and ordering a drink to wash that sick taste away.
Because she's naive, and vulnerable, and innocent but she's always said that now she's an adult, and maybe so.
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She's back in the early morning, eyes dead and her makeup smudged down her cheeks in two smoky tracks, and that's when the guilt that's flooding into his stomach mixes with his last drink and forces him to put the bottle down for a second. It doesn't matter, though, because she doesn't say anything to him, as she gathers her wounded pride, gathers her shaken, shaking heart, and disappears up the stairs.
And in his sick, shaking heart, he knows he needs to go tell her, but his wounded pride won't let him, so he settles back and pours himself a drink.
She's shaken, and sick, and wounded, but she's always said that she can take care of herself, and maybe so.
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It's the next morning that he knocks on her door, and she doesn't answer, but somehow he knows what that means, and he pushes it open. He knows that just because she doesn't say anything doesn't mean she's not glad he came, because she's curled up on her bed, with her pillow in her arms, and she's doesn't need to tell him that she's never felt more alone. It's then that he doesn't know what she wants, and realizes that he doesn't know what he wants (what he wants that's plausible, 'cause there's a lot that he's never wanted more in his entire life).
So he sits down on her bed, staring at the golden monstrosity affixed to his arm, and he's thinking about the glass that he held in it last night, and wishing he could have it back, when she crawls over to him, and settles down next to him, still hugging herself, still shaken, still wounded. He knows she's starving for someone to care, and he doesn't know why he was the one who was landed with the job, because he swore he'd never be her Edward Cullen, but he knows that she's there now, and he's there now, and he can't leave her, because he does care, because he cares too much, so he puts his arms around her and holds her like the angel heaven let him think was her.
Because she's flawed, and human, and young, but she always said that nobody's perfect, and maybe so.
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i less than three you guys. :3
thanks for reading.
i honestly don't know if this is good or not, but... hopefully we'll see?
and the whole run-on thing was actually done purposefully.
obviously.
weighing in at a whopping 921 words, this is my shortest drabbletine to date.
fanfiction won't let me double-break my line breaks.
it's supposed to look much more spaced out than this, which lends to the effect and feeling, and helps the whole experience along.
so yeah. fanfiction is mean.
seriously.
anyway.
thanks.
Latte
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i loved you with a fire red,
now it's turning blue