A/N: I wanted to get "My Own Way" done first, but I'm having a POV crisis. Before that, I wanted to do "Don't Close the Book", but I lost the drive for that one, and this was the spawn of late nights and romance fics.
Song: "Goodnight My Love"
Pairing: RoyxArtemis
POV: Roy
Disclaimer: I don't own. Song by Honor Society.
Goodnight My Love
I wake up feeling something heavy on top of me. I open one tired eye and see her blonde hair laying across my body, her chest gently rising and falling.
Dawn filters through the window. I blink my other eye open. She looks like a goddess in the golden light. Of course, it's so appropriate for her. It's getting light outside. I know I need to leave before she wakes up. I need to get out before anyone walks in and finds us. If Wally ever found out I'd slept with his fiancée...
But God, she was just begging for it. She needed someone so badly that I couldn't refuse. Her hips, her legs, those lips... It didn't take much to make me take her home last night. She needed someone so badly. I was just the guy lucky enough to take her home. Good luck or bad luck depending on what way I wanted to look at it.
I'm perfectly aware that I broke the Bro Code, but I'll be forgiven. In time. Maybe. Maybe not. Wally'll never know, that's the best part. And if he does find out, it'll be too late and nothing'll matter anyways.
I rake my fingers through her messy blonde hair. It's like a waterfall except that it's tumbling in every direction it can find. Even across her face. I push those few stray strands away from her gorgeous eyes. They're shut, but I know exactly what shade of blue they are. Her lips are parted slightly. She's got the tiniest smile on. Even in her sleep, she's beautiful.
I can't help but remember last night, the way she'd come to me in the bar. She'd come in with Cassie originally, but that'd been over as soon as Cassie had a little hissy over Superboy (again). And seeing me, Artemis had sauntered on over and plopped herself beside me, needing a friend and maybe a little bit more. She'd ordered two drinks, not afraid to pick up a tab. She must've thought it was just going to be drinks.
Then she was a little too tired to drive herself home. So I decided that taking her home with me would be best. I didn't want to be responsible for accidentally letting my friend's almost-wife get killed. I would never want that on my conscience.
Taking her home, handing her a beer, curling up on the couch with old tv and way too much time, we'd ended up kissing at some point. I think she may have started it. It's all still a little bit fuzzy.
But I do know it wasn't just a drunk romance. We had no drugs, and we weren't buzzed enough to be confused. She was serious. I was serious. But we aren't serious.
I can remember her tongue wrestling with mine as we rushed to my bedroom. It was hard to tell who'd won the war, but he knew she was more of a challenge than any other girl I'd ever gotten intimate with. She wasn't afraid to break barriers and bust down walls.
I'd pushed her down on the bed first, I remember that much. She was running her hands along my neck and through my hair and kissing me back hard enough to make me think she was trying to fight World War III with just her lips. I know she wanted it though. She wasn't drunk enough to be hallucinating. She wasn't. I know it. She wanted this.
And I got on top of her, tangling my fingers up in her golden hair and making sure she got her fill of everything Wally could never be. I held onto her tight, wishing the night wouldn't end. I wished that maybe she would see something new after that.
I gently try to get her off of me. I have to get up. I have to get out of my apartment, get some fresh air, find some coffee, give her time to wake up and leave. I know I can't let this affect either of us. She's got a wedding in a couple of weeks. I've got a kid due in a few months. We can't be playing this game. It's not serious. We're not serious.
But I can't stop looking at her in the light and wishing I could stay. I play with her hair a little more; she smiles, still trapped in that perfect little dreamland where everything is always good as gold.
Maybe she's even dreaming about me.
Or maybe not.
I'm thinking for a few seconds of what we could have been. Imagine if she'd come a little bit sooner and bitched at me instead of West. I look out at the sun as it continues to rise. Maybe I could've been the lucky bastard to have put the ring on her finger.
I'm out from under her, and she's still out cold. I don't get out of bed for a few more minutes. I keep looking at her, at her slightly tanned skin, just like her sister's, at her so perfectly kissable lips, at her closed sapphire eyes, at her thin, gorgeous body. I have to tear my eyes away and get out of the bed. I can't resist such temptation forever. Not when it's so close. Not when I can still touch it.
I dig some boxers out of a pile of clothes. I find a pair of jeans with grass stains at the knees and pull them on. I shrug on a shirt and begin to button up the front, my back turned away from the bed, away from her. I can't keep looking at my mistake. It feels stupid, but I know I had to. Just to know what all I'd missed out on. I had only wanted to hold her, and now I'm guilty. But she needed it. I needed it.
We're not serious. It'll never happen again.
It's quiet except for the rustling of my clothes as I pack my keys into my pocket and shove my wallet into another. I have to remind myself about the coffee. And I have to figure out how I'm going to get her car back for her; she left it at the bar.
Then her voice crackles through the silence, words deliberate but tired. "You're so much better than Wally will ever be."
A/N: Short, but I wanted to follow the song. It's definitely one of my favorites on this album. So review?
~Sky