A/N: Firstly, thank you soooo much to the reviewers. You guys are absolutely amazing. Secondly, I apologize for taking so long with this update. It's also not very long, but I think you'll be happy with the ending of it. I've been catching up with school, and getting back into my schedule. Homework sucks, and I have a lot of it now that I'm a Junior. I'm going to do my best to keep updating regularly, at least once a week, but I also have work taking up quite a bit of my time. Anyways, enough of me, Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Anyone But You
Chapter Eleven
Everything was in slow motion and I couldn't begin to breath. He was so close to me, his eyes staring back into mine as we stood. We stood on that staircase for I don't even know how long. Minutes and seconds were useless here. They meant nothing anymore. Time was only sixty seconds, sixty minutes, twenty four hours. Time didn't have a hold on us in this moment, there was only us. Only us and this moment. And although I would never admit it, I liked it. I liked the feeling of having no constrictions, no time to hold us back; no one to hold us back.
My hands were holding on to him tighter than I had ever held onto something. I knew everything was beginning to fall apart, beginning to disintegrate. Time was ticking away, even though it had no constraint. It didn't matter, but it meant everything because I wanted all the time I could get with him. I didn't want to be alone without these seconds, these seconds that ticked mockingly. Tick tock, tick tock. Never knowing exactly how many more I would hear, or knowing how many more he'd be there with me for.
"Don't," My voice was fragile, weak, just like I felt, "Please Don't." For so long I had been so strong. I had been so sure, so positive that I wouldn't break. I had myself convinced that I didn't need anyone or anything, that I could hold myself up, but it was all a lie. I hadn't been holding myself up, but instead these walls. The walls that guarded me, instead of letting me live, and now for once, I could say I needed someone. I let these walls fall brick by brick, vulnerable and stronger than ever because I had him. He couldn't leave.
"Nate," I almost cried, "I need you. Don't." The message was clear, and for the first time I let him in. I let these defenses down, and pulled him to me. Without him I'd be alone, I'd be scared and I wouldn't know what to do if something should happen to him once he walked down those steps. Although I needed him, I still felt an obligation to keep him safe. I'd dug this grave for him and forced this problem into his arms. He wasn't a part of it, only me, and I couldn't let him face the consequences that I so rightfully deserved.
"I'm-", I hung on his every word, "I'm sorry." My hand found the railing next to me, steadying myself. My body wavered and I almost collapsed at his words. My eyes lowered, the tears spilling out uncontrollably. He was leaving me, when I'd asked him to stay. I had bit back my tongue, the one that wanted to spit out insults because it was familiar, and admitted it. I admitted that he meant something to me, that somewhere deep down he was someone I wanted in my life. It felt like a slap in the face to know that it was like he didn't care, like he didn't take my request seriously. And the bricks piled a little as the feeling rose in the pit of my stomach. That feeling of rejection almost, but so much worse.
I watched him trail down the stairs, and he looked back at me when he reached the bottom. It shook me, scared me to know that this could be the last time my eyes ever met his. If someone was down there waiting for him, this could be our last moment, and our last look. Our last words, and yet the first time I had let this barrier fall. I printed it into my memory right then and there, and I hoped to god it wouldn't be the last memory I had of him.
"Please be careful," Left my lips. It was quiet and solemn, and I sent my prayers with it. It drafted down the stairs and as soon as he left my view, my eyes slipped shut, listening closely. I could hear every creak, and ever movement as if it was right next to me. My eyes were misty, the tears reflecting in the light. The gulping sound I made when I swallowed echoed in my ear, and my heart was the loudest of them all. I was terrified. I was afraid that I would hear voices, a fight, a gunshot, but mostly I was afraid I wouldn't hear anything at all. I was afraid that when I went down there he would be gone already. And thats when I realized that I my biggest regret at that moment was that the last words I ever said to him might be 'Please be careful'. There was so much more I wanted to say.
For a few moments I could only hear the soft, comforting movements that Nick made. I listened intently, started slightly by a loud screech across the kitchen's flooring. When I caught myself, and thought about it, I was relieved. Everything was okay. Slowly, my hand loosened its grip on the railing next to me, and I moved from my spot. The tenseness and fear slowly slipped away and my feet lightly touched each step until I reached the bottom. They creaked as I moved, but only slightly, and when I reached the bottom, I let out the breath I had been holding. He was sitting there at the kitchen table as if none of this had really happened. I could only pray that it hadn't, but I knew it had.
"Nate?" He looked up to my voice, and smiled wearily. I tried my best to return it, but it didn't work out quite well. I imitated his movements and walked to the kitchen, sliding out a chair of my own. I sat across from him, just watching him. I watched his eyes move over the television and his curls fall perfectly into his face. He looked so concentrated, and so confused, as if he was thinking about something so deeply. I focused in on him, my eyes covering ever part of him just trying to remember it forever. This was something I wouldn't let go of, something that I knew would change our relationship. I didn't know where it would go once we got out of here, if we did at all, and that almost made me want to stay. Would we go back to the old days, the days of fights and insults? A part of me still clung to it, knowing it was the only thing I could count on, but I knew it was changing. I knew I could never go back to know it used to be, not now. I was in too deep, and I had let him in too far to push him away again. But I had to wonder, if I couldn't hold on to our fights and our hate, what could I really depend on anymore?
My eyes then took the attention of the television that was on. I could see Shane and Jason in their room, and without a second thought, my head snapped, turning to look at the staircase I had just come down. I still hadn't grasped the concept as well as it seemed that Nate had. I still wanted to believe that two of my best friends were just up those stairs, and that I could run to them at any time. I still wanted to believe that I was at the real Gray house and that I wasn't in some sort of sick replica. When I turned my head back around, facing the reality I was in, I caught Nate's eyes on me. My eyes furrowed immediately, wondering what he was looking at exactly. I knew he was looking at me, but I couldn't see why exactly. Before I could even ask him, he shook his head clear of his thoughts and turned back to the television.
When I looked back to the tv it almost tore me apart. The two of them were sitting around Shane's room, talking about me and Nate. They seemed to solemn, so sad. It was something I couldn't place, and something I didn't want to see in the eyes of one of my best friends. I listened to them speak, and I listened to Shane doubting us. I could almost tell he was losing most of his hope, thinking we were dead. Jason was holding on, still hanging in there and trying to keep up Shane's spirits, but neither of them knew. I think the only people who really could be certain were Me, Nate, Miller and the other man who's name I didn't know. I just hoped they wouldn't loose faith in us, and I hoped they'd keep praying. God, I wanted to get out of here.
"I never told her," Shane's voice rang in my ears. Instantly my face was the mirror image of confusion. Was he talking about me? What hadn't he told me? In some way, I wanted to know, but a part of me didn't. A part of me felt like this conversation wasn't meant for my ears, and that if he really wanted to tell me, he should do it willingly.
"Told her what?" Jason asked, "Lola?" It confirmed my suspicions.
"Yeah," Shane answered, "She- I don't know Jay. I know we weren't good friends or anything, not like you two, but..." He trailed off. "I think.." I panicked. The tone said it all, the voice, the sadness. Somewhere in me, I connected everything and I knew. And deep down, somewhere much deeper, I didn't want to know. I wanted to forget everything I had put together in these seconds and wash away the guilt that was coming over me. My eyes shot down, searching the table for the remote. I grabbed it, directing it to the television and turning it off. I didn't want to hear this, I didn't want it to be real. I just wanted to pretend, live not knowing what he was really going to say. I didn't want the guilt on my shoulders, but unfortunately it was already settling there.
"I think I li-" Was the last of it. My eyes were wide, with a sense of knowing, and I couldn't calm my breathing. This couldn't be happening. I think I had known for much longer than now that Shane had liked me, but I couldn't admit it. I didn't want to have to tell him I didn't like him that way, and I didn't want to have to reject him. Things were already awkward between Nate and I, and I didn't want to cut off another Gray. In a way, by shutting the television off, I was shutting him out. Putting this awkwardness off for another day, another situation to face, because I couldn't do it now. I couldn't hear it from him.
"Lola?" A voice called out. It fell on deaf ears for a moment while I concentrated on the blank screen, still thinking. However, quickly I snapped back into place, turning to the only voice I knew that would talk to me with such concern, such grace while I was here.
"Huh? Yeah?" I asked, my forehead scrunching a tad. I looked over him, ignoring the awkwardness. His face was soft, his eyes gentle and I fell into them. I knew I could trust him.
"Hey, maybe you should go take a shower or something? Okay?" He suggested, standing. I unnoticeably looked over myself, taking note of how disgusting I must appear. I was covered with bruises, and as I remembered them, they began to ache again. Scratches lined my skin, and blood fell across every part of me. My clothes were wrinkled and gross, and I felt awkward now just sitting in them. I felt ugly, and I wondered how he could even look at me with the look in his eyes he'd been watching me with since I got here. He told me he had extra clothes he could get for me to wear, since mine were dirty, and that he would wash mine in the laundry room, since it was there.
"Yeah- yeah, okay," I agreed. I stood from my chair and gave Nick a weak smile. Sensing my insecurity, he grabbed my hand, and lead me up the stairs. The two of us stopped at the bathroom door and his grip dropped mine. I couldn't help but feel the butterflies in my stomach, and I tried to push them away, denying anything I could be feeling. I didn't want to care about him, I didn't want to loose my only constant. He told me he would get the clothes, and then I left him, walking into the washroom. I closed the door behind myself, leaning against it and taking in a deep breath.
I looked around the room, and then went to search through the cabinets. I found towels, and laid them out neatly. The room itself was comforting, enclosing me and making me feel protected from anything that was outside of it. Slowly, I turned, looking into the mirror and tracing my hands across the marks. I didn't look like myself anymore, I didn't look like Lilly. I looked hurt, and broken, and it wasn't something I was used to. Shedding my tank top, and shorts, I looked ever ever scratch, and every bruise. They were memories imprinted on me, and I could recall how I got every one of them. I could see which ones would scar, and which ones would fade with time. None of them would be forgotten though, none of these moments would go away, none would slip my mind. Each touch and each emotion would plague my thoughts. Each beat of my heart, each breath, and each tear would be reminders. Nothing could ever make me forget. Nothing could make me forget about him.
I was brought out of my thoughts by a gentle knock. Nate's voice echoed pasted the door, and I walked over, cracking the barrier open just enough. When I saw him, I couldn't help but smile. I could hardly look away, my eyes mesmerized by every colour in his. He passed me the clothes, and I took them graciously. I closed the door for a moment, and grabbed my other clothes, then passed them through to him so he could wash them. Once he took them, we smiled again, and the door closed.
I went immediately to the shower, turning it on. I let the water warm, and then I stepped in. The moment I did, all the scratches and the bruises washed away. The pain disappeared and every anxiety and fear was non-existent. I pulled the red wig from my head, and I let it rest on a hook in the shower. My hands ran through my long blond hair, and then trailed over the marks on my skin. The droplets of water fell onto my face, and my eyes closed, letting it overcome me. I finally relaxed.
I thought about everything in that time. Thoughts overcame me, surrounding me and consuming me. I thought about home, the real home, back with my Mom, and Miley and Oliver. I missed it, and I hoped that they were missing me just as much. I thought about Jason and Shane, and how I hoped they wouldn't give up on us, and mostly I thought about Nate. He was turning out to be nothing like I had pegged him. He was molding to my every need, being everything I could ever ask for. I almost regretted letting these two years past through my fingertips. I almost wished I could take it all back and start over, to make things right.
His smile was imprinted in my mind, and his voice was sending these calm waves through me, just as I thought about it. I wanted to slow down, to take this house as a blessing of some sort, and take the time we had. I didn't know what lied ahead in the road, but I would make the most of it. I would try to make amends, and although our hate was a constant, I was willing to give that up. I was willing to give it up, just to experience whatever might be down the road in a friendship.
After washing the wig, I placed it back over my hair. Although I trusted Nate, I wasn't sure how he would react to seeing a completely different person. I secured the vibrant red tresses and stepped out of the shower, turning it off. I treaded across the room, and put on my undergarments first, and then let the giant grey tshirt slip over my slender body. I wrapped the wet, red hair to one side of my neck, and took a glance in the mirror quickly. My body instantly froze at the reflection.
Before I could do anything at all, hands wrapped around my frame, covering my mouth as I struggled. I tried desperately to fight him off, to push him away, but his grip help firm. His hands burned against my skin, just as my tears did on their way to my cheeks. I didn't want to live this over, I didn't want to go through this a second time. His touches were desperate, and his voice in my ear was chilling. I wanted to die, and at the same time I wanted to live. I wanted to live to say the words I had never said but so desperately wanted to.
My body somehow moved, and I felt it slam up against the wall. My eyes closed at the pain. In my ears I could hear scrapes and slaps, and cracks, and every moan and whisper that escaped his mouth. The butterflies in my stomach became bats, and they bit at me, making me sick, making me squirm and hurt in places I shouldn't. Not again, please god, not again.
"Happy to see me?" His voice slimed, and I tensed. His gun laid abandoned on the counter top, but still I felt vulnerable. I no longer felt the protection, and however much I had begun to heal was set into reverse. The scars were pulling at me, digging deeper and deeper as his voice cascaded all around me. I was terrified. I couldn't even respond to his voice with a remark, I couldn't fight back because all these memories were rushing to me. His touches, his lips, his voice. The pain and the anguish. I didn't fight back, because I knew. I knew that he was here for me, and maybe if he got what he wanted, he would leave Nate alone.
So his hands searched my arms, my stomach, my thighs, and I didn't stop him. My head pressed against the wall, and I cried. I didn't sob or scream, I was silent, dreading what I could only pray wouldn't come next. His hands found my face, and he pulled my head up, almost forcing my eyes on his. They were sick and cruel. They held a darkness I had never seen, and a maliciousness I knew I had yet to experience. I felt his forehead on my own as he stared into my blue eyes. Typically, his own was almost black, and it hurt me to just see them.
Next something that was almost a familiarity happened. I was pulled back, and slammed back into the wall. It was something I knew well from the night in the police station. However, unlike those times, I was weak and tired and hurt. My head let out a crack, and darkness piled in from the corners of my eyes. The bathroom was blinking, focusing and then becoming blurry. I wanted to squint, but I couldn't concentrate enough to even do that.
I heard shuffling, and I listened to the bathroom door creak open. I didn't understand how Miller didn't notice this because it was louder than anything around me. The shuffling was thunderous and then I heard his voice. The voice of my rescuer, of my hero. The voice that I would be forever grateful to.
"Don't fucking touch her," And then whatever was holding me up, lost its grip and I fell. And the voice of my rescuer was the last thing I heard before the black in the corner of my eyes engulfed me. I felt myself meet the floor, and then there was nothing. There wasn't pain, or fear for those few and treasured seconds.
Then my eyes fluttered, slowly they opened and his face was the only thing in focus. A smile unconsciously fell onto my lips, and I leaned in closer to him. His arms pulled me towards him, his soft lips meeting my cheek, and letting me know I was okay. I didn't know how long I had been out, but I was still on the bathroom floor, with my rescuer. I was here with Nate. Somehow, despite what had just happened, and the knowledge that it could happen again at any time, I felt safe. I felt like while I was with him nothing could touch me.
"Why is it dark?" I whispered. My eyes trailed past his features and to the world around me. He was leaned up against the bathroom wall, holding me close and carefully. The floor was wet, and the room was barely lit. There was light from the hallway, but the windows were black.
"Its night," He answered, and I nodded. My strength fell short, and the moment was lost to black again.
The next time I woke up, it was still dark. There was a soft surface beneath me, and I struggled to open my eyes. The room around me was black, but I knew that we weren't on the washroom floor anymore. I felt the bed beneath me, and the covers covering me up to my ribs. My arms were limp, and my head was pressed up against a pillow, except it wasn't. Thats when I realized I was snuggled up against Nate's bare chest. His one arm held me protectively, and the other hand was threading through my hair. It calmed me, and I didn't want to move an inch.
My eyes looked up to his face, seeing he was asleep. Unconsciously, I moved closer to him, tangling my legs with his. He stirred for a moment, but continued to rest. My once limp hand found itself pressed against his chest, my fingers spread and taking in the moment. It felt right, almost perfect, and exactly where I was supposed to be.
The silence was enveloping the moment, and I let it continue to. I just watched him, my eyes focused on every line on his face and every curl that fell into his eyes. The one curl that I had cut off so long ago had grown back, and automatically, I reached up, brushing it away with my fingertips. His eyelids twitched, and I smiled at the perfection. I snuggled in deeper, pulling the covers closer to the both of us and laying in the moment. I took it all in, and thinking that it to have this moment, everything else was worth it. I could take anything else I was dished, just to come back to this one memory.
I breathed in deeply, smelling a scent I had grown to love. It was everything I had ever wished for in this moment, and lulled me into peace. I let my eyes move past him, watching the clock. I had gone through more things than anyone could ever imagine, and I had thought thoughts I was ashamed to say I had. I had been invincible, and I had been helpless. I had believed every word, and doubted everyone around me. I was a chameleon, changing to fit every need and every situation. I had run, and I had hid, and I had left so many things behind. I could remember, and I could hope to god to forget. I could feel every cell running through me, and my heart beating against my chest. I could feel the swell of air in my lungs, and the tense in my shoulders. I could feel the wind in my throat as I took those breaths, and I could feel the tingle in my soul as I thought of the memories. I was broken, and I was perfectly fine. I was a shell, a wall, a barrier to the world around me. I was lost, and I was cold. I was vulnerable, and I was afraid. I was not the first impression I made. I wasn't the second impression either, or the third or the fourth.
I wanted to shake, and I wanted to cry, but he made everything feel alright. I was remembering the hurt, the pain, the love and every regret I had ever had. I was trying, I was praying, and I was wishing at this 11:11 to make things right. I was starting to slow down, to take these minutes and keep them safe. I was taking things for granted, and appreciating everything I had. I was holding these people close, and I was letting some slip from me. I was desperate for his voice, and I was pushing him away. I was smiling, and I was falling. I was falling into the unknown, something I wasn't familiar with. I was breathing, I was living, and I was moving forward. I was gasping for air, I was dying, and I was dwelling in the past. He was everything I ever wanted, and I was everything he never needed. I was a wreck, and I was put together. I was the same, and I was different. I was forgiving, and I was holding so many grudges against him. But most importantly, I was letting go of it all. Tonight.
I held tighter to him, feeling light and letting everything off my shoulders. He was an amazing person, someone I never wanted to let go of. He was someone I wanted to make years of memories with. Someone I wanted to spend a life time with, watching him grow and change and experience brand new things. Someone I wanted to argue with, someone I wanted to fight with, and someone I wanted to make up with. Someone I wanted to talk to or say nothing at all to and still feel like we'd had the best conversation. Someone I wanted to stay out all night with, or stay in all day with. He was someone I would do anything for, just because he had done everything to protect me here. Thats when I realized just how much he meant to me, and how much I was willing to give up this constant. I couldn't hate him anymore.
I shuffled again, and I felt his arms tense around me. I stilled, waiting, and watching as his eyelids flickered. They opened, and he yawned lightly. His eyes moved around the room, and then met my own. The smile that settled on his face touched me, and I couldn't even smile because he took my breath away. He was it for me, and I knew it. The look in his eyes that I saw when he stared at me just made my heart beat fast and slow at the same time. The look he gave me still when I was bruised and broken, and looking like I had crawled out of a swamp. He saw past that, and he cared. He cared enough to put me before himself, to walk down those stairs and put himself in danger for me.
"Hi," I whispered, smiling up at him. His smile mirrored mine, and he ducked his head lower. The hand in my wig never stopped brushing through the red hair comfortingly.
"Hi," He whispered back. The both of us were silent, watching each other with giant smiled plastered on our faces. The memory of Miller in the bathroom was forgotten for the time being and the two of us laid still together, making our own memories. Our noses were almost touching, and I could feel his breath hanging over me. This was the last place I ever thought I would be when I woke up, but I reveled in it and I loved every minute of it. He was here, so close to me, and so breathtaking. His eyes stirred against the emotions in me, and I could feel the butterflies erupting inside me again.
My smile grew bigger just looking at him, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. This moment was more than I could ever ask for.
"Thank you," I breathed. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible, and our bodies flushed together, flesh against flesh. Perfection at its best.
"I'm sorry," His voice sounded defeated. His eyes shot down cast, and his shoulders slumped. His grip loosened ever so lightly, and I fell a bit short from him. My eyebrows furrowed, and I moved my head, trying to catch his gaze. What did he have to be sorry for? My hands reached out, and I touched his shoulder gently. His eyes looked up to meet my confused ones, and I tilted my head.
"Sorry?" I choked out, "Why?" His laid his head back against the pillow, his eyes staring up to the ceiling. His breathing was deep, and the arm that was around me was brought to his side. Instantly, I felt the cold surround me as his touch disappeared.
"I let him get to you," He answered. His head turned, his eyes meeting mine. I was still confused. How could he even begin to blame himself for that? It wasn't his obligation to be there for me, or to protect me, but I loved him because he was. Because he choose to, and most of all because he felt guilty when he didn't have to. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I smiled. Now it was his turn to be confused. Before he could even ask why, I answered him.
"I'm not sorry that any of this happened," I confessed quietly. The whisper brought his face closer to mine as he strained to hear me. His eyes were focused on mine, and slowly his forehead met my own. I closed my eyes, whispering out the last of my confession.
"I wouldn't take back anything at all. For every wrong we've ever had there have been so many rights. All of the fights and all of the arguments have made us stronger, and every moment and every experience we've ever had has brought us here, and right here is exactly where I want to be." When I opened my eyes, he was staring back at me with such an intensity. His forehead pressed deeper against mine, as we both tried to eliminate the space.
"I want to be here, with you," And without hesitation, his lips moved over mine. It was different than anything I could ever remember feeling, and I didn't object. The kiss was intense, and amazing. Our lips met like puzzle pieces, as if I could never fit so perfectly with anyone else but him. His mouth moved with mine expertly and passionately, as if this was anything but new to us. My hands, pressed against his chest, his hand still tangled in my hair as the other held my arm gently. This was a moment I would always remember. This was a moment I wanted to live over and over, unconstrained by time, where the only thing that mattered was us and the butterflies that took me over.
A/N: And thats chapter eleven. Tell me what you liked, and didn't like, and if the Nilly kiss was or wasn't too soon. Any predictions or things you'd like to see next chapter? Also, there's a poll on my profile pertaining to which story I should write once I finish ABY, which has maybe four or five more chapters left. So tell me what you think about that. Also, if you just want to talk, PM me. I love talking :) Long reviews make me smile.
Review please!