Chapter 10: Like You'll Never See Me Again
i.
He's sitting in the room invaded by the orange sunlight streaming through the sheer curtain, numb with a newfound loneliness. His nostrils are still full of her smell – sweet, sweet flowers of one humid August night. He looks down at his hands – he held her with these hands for what seems to be a lifetime ago. Finn slumps back on the wall and slides down; resting his head against the cold surface and closes his eyes, as the world drifts by in a soft breeze.
She's looking at the ground when she bids him her goodbye. He wants to see her eyes though, he wants to see those gorgeous eyes.
"So you don't love me?" – He whispers –to be honest, he should have seen it coming.
He did – he knew it from the beginning – but he chose not to believe it.
"It's not as simple as black and white, Finn."
"Yes it is!" – He yells at her and sees her body flinches. "It is." – He cups her face in his rough hands, a little more forceful than before, tilts her head up and finds a sad pair of brown eyes staring back at him, "It is."
"It's not." – She turns away and puts on the rest of her clothes, turning her soft back on him before letting out a sigh, "Why do you need to know that? Isn't this enough?"
"This? What exactly is this?" – He grabs her arm and turns her around – "What exactly is this, Rachel? You coming here and being with me and I don't even know what we are, what I am to you."
"Aren't you happy? Why do you need to label things?"
"I'm not labeling anything! I want to know if the girl I'd die for loves me or not! Is it a little too much to ask? I just want to know what the fuck you need from me! Why are you even with me, Rachel?"
"I don't need anything from you! I don't want you! You're a creep, a weirdo! You live in this little shitty world of your own where words are all you need! Words, beautifully crafted empty words!"
He feels the warm tears rolling on his cheeks as he remembers her words.
"THEN WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?" – He punches on the wall, he doesn't feel anything though – "You can just always leave." – He backs away from her and watches as her face crumbles.
"I hate you!" – His brunette darling screams at him, the words rip through the ringing silence in the room.
And the carpet on the floor still holds the shape of her feet.
ii.
This girl, this Carmencia little darling is dancing in front of him, showing him her perfectly smooth skin that has the same olive color as that of his love. Her fingers slowly lift up her tight red shirt, drawing patterns on her skin, kneading her breasts. She licks her lips in the cheap ways those poor prostitutes always do with no hesitation and frees herself from the rest of her clothing. Carmencia crawls over to him, grinding her pussy on his loin and throwing her head back, making (faking) moans and kissing him. He kneads her breasts with one hand, the other holding a can of beer.
He fucks the girl – roughly – and he can tell that the girl's taken by surprise with his skills as a lover – she makes these sounds and Finn's been with enough women to know whether they're real or not.
He still feels it – the satisfaction after orgasm. He still feels the heat and the joy of release. He does feel it.
He also feels disgusted with himself and he rushes the girl out of his apartment after paying her. She curses in Spanish before slamming the door.
He lies back down on the bed, and sobs – loud, penetrating sobs – in the dimming yellow light of his lamp. He wants his Carmencia. And she's gone.
iii.
He calls Sue and his family to tell them that he's leaving. He goes through the boxes of postcards and used tourists guidebooks with folded corners to choose a place. Maybe he should head to West Coast – ah yes; maybe the sunny California sky will help him. Los Angeles? City of fallen angels. Hollywood. Yes, he'll be a penniless Bohemian writer living in a tiny, shitty apartment with a heavenly view looking across the promising sign of Hollywood. He'll write novels – he'll be the lover that older women need when they're lonely; he'll live a rich but lonely life and his hobby will be watching sunsets on Beverly Hills.
Then he sees it – an old yellow postcard from the 1960s, it must have been his Grandpa's, under the pile of papers. Lights and lovers.
It's his turn to live this time.
iv.
Finn blows the dust off his leather suitcase – he hasn't taken it down from its place on the top of the shelf for years – and runs his fingers on the surface. He sighs and starts putting his clothes into the suitcase – and tries his best not to connect them with the memories New York has given him.
"What's with all the boxes?" – A far too familiar voice pulls him from his thoughts.
He turns around and sees her standing there – as lovely as forever, with her hair tied together into a top knot and an oversized cardigan, kicking her feet on the carbon boxes on the floor.
"I'm moving" – He answers while folding his favorite shirts and without looking at her.
She laughs and moves closer to where he's standing and puts her arms around him, "No you're not." He shivers as her fingers clutch onto the front of his shirt.
"I am." – He pulls himself away from her and avoids looking at her.
"Oh come on Finn!" – She tries to grab his hand but he stares right into her eyes and she backs away.
"You're really moving?" – She whispers and looks around the apartment full of yellow carbon boxes.
"There's no point of me staying here."
"Your work!" – She follows him around as he maneuvers to get the rest of his clothes.
"I'm a free – lance writer, Rachel."
"Your apartment!"
"I sold it."
"Your family! Kurt, Carole, Fanny, Marcy, Ann, ect."
"I told them and they say what makes me happy makes them happy."
"You can't just leave!" – She yanks the pants and boxers in his hands and starts unfolding them – "You can't!"
"Guess what sweetheart" – He takes the clothes from her hands easily, his body towering her tiny one – "I can and I am."
"Finn! Stop! I don't want you to leave." – She hugs him from behind, resting her face against his back and he feels his heart shattering into thousands sparkling pieces – "Please, Finn."
There, she does it again. Making him love her with her sweet voice. But he's had had enough – he's hurt enough.
"Give me a reason why I should stay."
He turns around and cups her face in his hands – he knows he'll go mad if he doesn't touch her – "But don't tell me you need me because we both know that it's bullshit."
"I do need you! I do!"
"Why do you need me?"
"Because I don't know who I am."
v.
She stands in front of him, a little girl swimming in her oversized cardigan and ripped jeans shorts, a little child with sun on her skin and in her hair.
"I don't know who I am." – She sits down on the floor, pulls her knees to her chest – "I play all the parts. The goody – two – shoes part, the bad – girl part, the brat, the angel. I don't know what I am, Finn. I go around telling people about my Broadway dreams, but I'm not sure if that's what I need. I wander and just try to fit into all these different roles, I get lost and I can't even see myself."
"But you say you love me. You say you love me." – She reaches for his hand – "You must see me, you must know me then. Maybe being with you will help me find me. Right? Can you please help me with that? Helping me find me?"
She's crying.
Opalescent tears rolling down on her lovely cheeks, caressing her flushed skin.
He kneels down in front of her and enfolds her in his arms, "Oh baby, shh, oh my baby. Don't cry."
She clutches on the front of his shirt, sobbing loudly.
He gets it now. She's never loved him, but she needs him to help her. Help her finding her.
"I can't help you with that, Rachel. You'll have to do it yourself. No one can." – He kisses her forehead – "You have to make that journey on your own."
"I don't know how."
"You do, Rachel, you do! You always have." – He kisses her tears and feels the heat of her body in his embrace – "You just need to brave, okay?"
"So you'll still leave me?"
"No, I'll leave New York but I won't leave you." – He pulls back to stare into her alluring brown eyes – "We both need to find ourselves. And maybe after I've found me, I'll come back to you."
He kisses her lips – fiery lips, angelic lips – "I'll come back to you."
She unbuttons his shirt and pulls the garment off his body, then runs her brown fingers on his pale skin. He trembles at the softest touch. He takes off her cardigan and kisses her chest through the paper thin tee, his hands taking off her shorts. It hurts him to finally realize the truth – maybe he has known it before, that she doesn't love him, but she needs him for herself. Does it make her selfish? Yes. Of course. But he loves her for his own good, he'll always do. That makes him a selfish bastard too, he believes so. When her fingers wrap around his cock, he groans and sucks harder on her perk nipples and that makes her bite on his shoulder. She moves her hands up and down while he keeps sucking her breasts – he knows how to drive her crazy. "I'm gonna fuck you with my tongue" – he whispers and sees her biting on her lips, nodding her head and arches her back. He puts both her legs over his shoulder, and kneads her calves, sucks at the smooth skin he's always been loving and puts his tongue inside her pussy and laps at her – loving how she can't stay still, thrashing from side to side and pulls his hair roughly. He draws patterns with his tongue and sucks on the little nub above her slit. She screams and he feels wetness gushing out from her body. Before long, she pulls him up and kisses him- bruising his lips – and he pushes in and out with an agonizingly slow rhythm. "Oh, God, oh baby, yeah, that's it, baby baby oh God".
He's loving her like he'll never see her again.
vi.
"Did you ever love me?"
"Truth?"
"Truth."
"No, not really" - She runs her fingers through his damp hair - "I like you. You're cool and talented."
"You don't hate me?"
"I hate how you always seem to treat yourself so lowly and how you act like a snob sometimes. Oh and I hate the way you talk."
"Why?"
"Mysterious and esoteric" – She taps on his nose lightly –"Makes me feel stupid."
"You're not."
"So you're really moving to Paris?"
"Yeah."
"You won't want to leave."
"How do you know that?"
"I know."
The shadow of New York slowly covers the two naked people, lying on top of an old blanket on the floor in an apartment full of boxes. He sees the resplendent sight of her body in the dimming light and he knows she'll drive him mad with tenderness.
When she kisses his cheek goodbye, he feels as if he were flying.
He's free, at last.
tbc
….:::….
A/N:
Carmencia: Carmen, Humbert calls Lolita Carmen from time to time.He's just calling the woman by this name and remembers about Rachel.
Ahhhh, thank you so so much for all the reviews! OMG I was so happy when I read them. You guys are the best! I cherish each one of them! I'm serious.
So this actually is the first scene I pictured when I began writing "Creep". I know some of you think Finn maybe a little too pathetic : ( but I built him upon Humbert Humbert, and if you read "Lolita", you'll find similarities between Finn and Humbert, Rachel and Dolores. : )
What do you think of this chapter? It's a very important one, so, please, please shower me with reviews, be honest and harsh if you want to, I won't be mad! (^v^)
We'll have one last chapter my babies, I'm so emotional right now (_"_)
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