This is the known ending. There may be more, someday. But for now, it's an end.
I'm caught here in your gaze, unable to move because I'm more afraid of what's behind me. I don't know how I'll avoid you this time, and the chances of succeeding are growing slimmer as you persist and my desire to just stop fighting it grows stronger. I'm getting weaker, I'm going to crack soon, and there's nothing I can do about it…
What I am is unpredictable, even to myself. I don't trust myself any more to stay a safe distance away from you, not as I keep wanting to do otherwise.
Oh, I would give so much to be able to properly hate you, or have no cause to resent you at all…
--
You're trembling, clearly enough for me to see from my distance.
I'm burning to say something, shout it, snap you into the here and now and shake every little thing you keep bottled up out of you so I'll know what the hell I can do about you. I didn't mean to become your caretaker, much as you appear to hate me for it, but what it means is that I have to push at your boundaries. I won't let you hesitate like this for much longer.
I'll let you hate me, as that's not under my control, but if you don't decide soon, I'll make your choice for you. I'll take on the price, because I know exactly what I want. I don't think you know what you want. This should be your choice to make, your price to pay, but you've got to step up and decide. It's not just about living or dying. If you live, you'll live with me. You're stuck with me. Can you accept that? Can you learn to tolerate me again?
You say something – I can't hear what – and I am watching you because there is nothing else to see of more importance and damn, this is getting annoying. Make up your mind. I am tired of this process, and I know it's you're decision to make, but I am not patient by nature and you are trying every ounce of it I have. I shouldn't force you…
But I can almost taste the realisation of a long-anticipated decision, and I can almost taste the answer, and it has a far more bitter flavour than I've ever imagined you possessing.
--
You're biding your time.
I know you can tell how close I am to cracking. I don't want to give in, but that's never stopped me before…
Why are you coming closer? I'm already collapsing faster than even a moment earlier, gaining speed before I crash. This isn't helping. My control is fading – you're too close – too close, and I'm not responding the way I want myself to respond. I don't think it's me in control anymore, and I'm scared that it is, because if it is, there's no saving me now.
But this isn't supposed to happen.
"Make up your mind," you growl, and I am amazed that you even believe I have a choice to make. I'm just avoiding the inevitable. I don't want to take any option I can think of, but I have a feeling I won't need to. I know I can't end this feeling of falling – that would involve acknowledging you, asking a favour of you, and there are other things I'd rather ask of you…
Other things?
You sigh – and since when are you close enough for me to feel it on my face – and smile grimly as if you know my mind better than I do. I think you do, because you're even closer, no, in my face and that's your mouth on mine and is this a kiss because I can't tell but I know this isn't how it's supposed to be and I definitely don't want this but damn it feels good and maybe there's a reason after all to be in love with you…
Wait.
Love?
Shit.