In case anyone's wondering... No, last chapter was not the end of the fic. Nor have I abandoned this fic. I shall explain in the paragraph below the delay that has caused you to perhaps think that. When I finish this story (and I do, indeed, intend to finish it... have it all mapped out and everything), I will personally change its status to Complete. Note: The preceding chapter is also not the end, although I will say that it is something a lot of you have been waiting for (Derek included).
Okay, so first of all, I apologize for the long delay in getting this chapter out. I'm really bad about that. Admittedly, I kind of put it off at times, as I am a procrastinator by nature, but I did have genuine issues like the computer troubles mentioned in my profile, the occasional writer's block (how I shudder to mention the word), and prior obligations such as school. In addition, you are receiving this fresh off a weeklong trip to see colleges. I'm just a bit exhausted, but I wanted to get this up for you guys tonight. So here. ;)
Finally, a very important note (which means I might get a bit irritated (incidentally, if I sound a bit irked while writing this note, it's because I'm hungry, have a headache, and have been made slightly insane) if someone fails to remember this or read it in my profile)... I'm leaving at the end of the month to go to Paris. I will be in Paris for five weeks. So don't expect an update for at least a month. Since I am not bringing my laptop, which is incidentally still in the shop, and will have classes and such... I probably will be physically unable to post, if I am able to write at all. I seriously hope I will have enough time to write, even if it is done in email, because I love writing. I could maybe get an update done by the end of the month but don't count on it.
Now, Derek is all over the place in this chapter, I warn you. I kinda don't like it at times. He struggles, he wavers, he's kinda wishy-washy... And, I dunno, who's the winner here, Derek or Casey? Which one of them has really given in?
So, without further ado, here's the chapter.
Casey cries. "Waaaaah!"
Derek loves her. He comforts Casey. "Casey..."
Casey loves Derek now, not Sam. Sam is stupid. "Derek, I..." Casey kisses Derek. (Muah)
Derek falls for it. "Yes."
They love each other. They procreate together, oh, happy day!
...And then they all lived happily ever after.
Just kidding! Here's hoping no one fell for that. You really think I would stiff you by giving you a chapter that short? Do I look like Hemingway? Lol. Nah, really, I have this thing; since it usually takes me so damn long to update, I have to give my readers at least ten pages. I feel bad if I don't because my other story is like, 5 times as long. A typical chapter for that fic is like, 30 pages... sometimes more. Another fic is almost as long as this one, and it's only four chapters long. So 10 pages is understandably not that long to me, and I kinda wish this chapter was longer because it's so pivotal.
I don't own Life with Derek or even this computer. Nor do I profess to. Hope you enjoy the story, though... The plot's all mine! Enjoy!
My heart says one thing, but my head says another! And now I sound like a cheesy love song!
Casey was still crying when we got home. I hated not being able to do anything about it. I don't do crying, but really I just don't know what to say when I see it. I don't cry, period. Not even after a hockey injury. In fact, I don't think I've cried since... I guess since my mom died. But I couldn't do anything, so I just tried to wrap my arm around her or something. She shoved me away fiercely for someone sobbing so hard.
I guess I still can't believe it. Like it has to sink in or something. This whole night has just gone so much differently than I thought it would. I thought I was gonna go to some party, get wasted, and find a pretty girl to sleep with. That's what I normally do, the hotter the better. It's not like I wasn't expecting it to happen- the thing with Sam, not Casey kissing me. Nothing could've prepared me for that surprise. It's hard to have hope all the time when she just keeps rubbing my face in it, and in spite of myself, I was beginning to despair. Not fall to pieces or anything... Just, you know, almost actually accept reality for once.
I knew Sam was cheating, and I tried to tell her. She never listens to me, but I'd know better than anyone else. They would've broken up eventually, but they broke up tonight. And maybe that means something. I know it had absolutely nothing to do with me, given the way Casey's been ignoring me. That kiss really came out of left field. Honestly, I'm pretty sure it's the first time she's really kissed me willingly, knowing who I am. Kind of intense, huh?
You know, I can't even remember the last time I was this happy. Sam and Casey are through... broken up for good. Casey can be exclusively mine now. But it's wrong to be happy when she's so miserable. Even though I wish she'd get her head far enough out of her ass to see that Sam was never worth even a second of her time.
She told me what happened, you know. How she caught Sam with Trashy Cassy (dirty pool, buddy) and that guy, Dean. Basically gave me the blow by blow account. Why was she walking home with that guy, though, if she'd caught him with Sam? It doesn't compute. Oh, what the hell ever. It doesn't even matter. What matters is that she's here and she's hurting.
And, for some completely bizarre reason, I felt it was my intrinsic duty to do something like that. Which is ridiculous because I am not that guy. I laugh at that sort of guy. I am usually the reason for those tears, not the one who has to clean them all up. And you know what? I'm wholly comfortable being that guy, being a total jackass. It's against my nature to be anything else, let alone a man with feelings and emotions. I am many things, but I am not ashamed, and I am most certainly not a sap.
Yet I went to Casey anyways. Dad and Nora were down in the basement, asleep already. I checked in on the little monster, and she was asleep (having, no doubt, fallen asleep even before our parents). It was like something called me to her presence. I'd say she needed me, almost, if I didn't know that was a lie. Maybe she just needed somebody. When I walked in her room, Casey was utterly silent. She was just leaning against her headboard, staring into space. She looked half-catatonic. Her eyes were dry, utterly devoid of tears. She merely sat there, didn't even sniffle. She almost didn't even look sad, actually.
Only I knew she was. She was absolutely miserable. I could practically smell it on her. It seemed like such a pity. Sam wasn't worth this. He wasn't really worth much anyways... as a friend or as a boyfriend. You know, I'm not going to be able to speak to him for this atrocity. Because Sam knows I'd spread word around school, and then everybody would ostracize him. And how would he get any action then? What girl in her right mind would go near him then? Not. Even. A. Freshman. I could ruin him for what he did to Casey, but she wouldn't like that. She's so humiliated that she doesn't even want to think about it. Not that I'll speak to him anyways.
He hurt my sister. This time I have a legitimate excuse. Plus, it's not like he was a stellar conversationalist anyways. And I sure didn't keep him around because he's an excellent hockey player. He's decent at best, downright awful after breaking up with Casey. That means my dream has come true. I don't have to waste any more of my precious time feigning pleasantries with the loser. Is it bad that I'm relieved?
Her eyes were a little bit puffy, and slightly bloodshot. That and the tissues in her trashcan were the only way you could tell she'd been crying. She didn't say a single word. That was the weirdest part of all. She didn't even make a feeble protest. Normally Casey would've shouted at me to get out at the top of her lungs. Then she would've forced me out of her room physically. Only now she hadn't even budged. It was like I wasn't even there. And you know how much I hate it when people ignore me.
I made a conscious effort to be nice to Casey. After all, she'd kissed me at midnight, hadn't she? That had to mean something. Plus, she caught her boyfriend in the act. Even I'm not a big enough jerk to rub that in her face. Still, I was left with the unsettling feeling of not quite knowing what to say. I don't do distress either. I had no idea what to do. It wasn't like I ever stuck around to comfort any of the many girls I had dumped. I walked tentatively over to Casey. "How you holding up?" I asked quietly, biting my lip.
Though her face was devoid of expression, and there was absolutely nothing threatening about her... I was wary of her. She was angry, I knew, somewhere deep down under that blank facade. And since she can't yell at Sam and doesn't even want to talk to him, she'll just take out all of her frustration on me like she always does. I think Casey sees me as a manifestation of all the confusion and chaos and general disorder in her life, so she gets mad at me a lot more than she should. As the main force of entropy in her life, I must be destroyed and broken... Casey picks the stupidest battles sometimes. I'm not the only thing she's mad at. Still, I was used to taking my anger out a lot, and Casey just got so hot when I pissed her off. I steeled myself for the eventual outburst. It would come, I was sure; she would strike suddenly and without warning, like a rattlesnake.
At first, Casey just ignored my question. Maybe she hadn't heard it at all or was just so dazed that it didn't register. Minutes passed without a word. I was beginning to contemplate going back to my room when she spoke. Her voice was hoarse and scratchy from either the sobs or disuse. "As well as can be expected," She said in a hollow voice. Her voice was devoid of any of Casey's characteristic emotion. That's one thing about Casey; you can always tell how she's feeling by her voice. There's always an underlying emotion there. Casey kept staring ahead. I nodded dully. Maybe she just wanted to be alone. Maybe I should just go and give her space.
Damn. I really wished I'd woken Nora up anyways. Casey didn't want to do that, though. She said she felt pathetic enough anyways, and that she was tired and would explain it to her in the morning. She told me she could hold up until then. Funny, isn't it, how I don't believe her. "Why did he do it, Derek?" Casey asked in a quiet, contained voice. I could've sworn I heard her tone waver, but she got it back under control briskly. That is the question, isn't it? I wish I had an answer for her, but I don't. Not really. I can't delve into Sam's motives... only my own.
I didn't answer, but Casey didn't look at me. She seemed, however, to get angrier. She stiffened just a little, and her expression became just a little more pinched. "I wasn't a bad girlfriend. I loved him. I treated him right. But it wasn't enough, was it?" Casey said numbly, sounding progressively more hysterical as she went on. What could I say to that? I didn't even understand it. That would've been enough for me. Well, with Casey, anyways. Okay, Casey is a bit moody and melodramatic, but why not just dump her? Or, if he was going to cheat on her, why on Earth did he pick the biggest slut in school? I almost said one thing, but I bit my tongue. I was going to say "You're not a man", but I figured it wouldn't be much appreciated.
I tried to shrug, but Casey grew even angrier. She turned to me abruptly, locking gazes with me. "Come on, Derek... You, of all people, can tell me what's so wrong with me! What is it, then, huh? The grade-grubbing, the klutziness, my opinions, the way I act... the way I keep obsessing over you?" Casey urged furiously, eyes blazing with intensity. I hadn't seen her eyes burn that brightly all night. I couldn't answer her. "What did I do that made him run to someone else, Derek?! What am I not doing right? Tell me, Derek... Tell me so I can fix it and make sure that this never happens again!" Casey demanded vehemently. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hands had turned into fists. She was on the verge of tears, but she held them back fiercely.
I was thinking over what she said because she obviously wanted an answer. Aside from the callous but obvious answer of "you didn't put out", there wasn't really anything I could say. Then there was the fact that Sam was an asshole and an idiot anyways. He took her for granted. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too, or, rather, he wanted to have a perfect, virginal girlfriend, and get laid on the side. But of course, I couldn't really say that either because she was like, still in love with him. Fact is... he never deserved Casey anyways. Still, I was stuck on one point. The way I keep obsessing over you? What the HELL did that mean? Does that mean she thinks about me a lot or has feelings for me or... what does that really mean, anyways? I can't imagine she and Sam talked about me a lot.
That's another one of those things that I can't say.
So what do you say to a girl who's had her heart broken? Much less to a girl you yourself love?
"You didn't do anything wrong, Casey. Sam's just an asshole," I blurted. Okay, so tact and subtlety have never been my strong points. Casey smiled grimly, and I knew immediately I'd said the wrong thing. It was the truth, though. She tried to smile a little and nodded a bit because I guess she agreed. But a moment later, the understanding was gone, replaced by steely insistence. Her eyes bored into me. I gulped. Normally I can get Casey so riled up she isn't even thinking straight in her anger, but now this is serious. Remember, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Casey glowered at me. She slid to the edge of her bed, closer to me. Then she grabbed my collar with a surprising force, pulling me only inches away from her face. It was not a romantic move. Her breath felt hot against my face. Her lips were chapped and kind of bitten. "Damn it, Derek! Just tell me what the hell is wrong with me!" Casey snapped venomously, full of wrath. I was stunned, both at her barely contained rage and her swearing. My Casey didn't curse. I have never seen her that pissed off. Never, not even at me.
That's just the problem. There's nothing wrong with her. I even like her flair for theatrics. "Nothing, Casey. Nothing is wrong with you," I swore, looking her straight in the eye. That time, I wasn't lying. I meant every word. Casey scowled and jerked my collar hard, almost sending me flying into her. It hurt. Wrong answer, apparently. Try again later. Either that or she didn't believe me. She glared daggers at me. Her eyes were dark and devoid of everything except rage and numbness. She was almost blind with fury.
Like she was that time she tried to strangle me. I hadn't forgotten.
Trust me; you just can't forget something like that. I mean, I've got a lot of people mad at me in my time, but I must say Casey's the only one who has ever tried to strangle me.
Then, out of nowhere, Casey slapped me so hard across the face that I felt my neck pop. It stung like a bitch. Moments later, she was once again in my face. "Tell me the goddamn truth, Derek. For once in your life, stop lying!" Casey growled. Midway her voice became sort of strangled and more of a shout. She was losing control faster than ever. She looked me dead in the eye. Her eyes were merciless and cool. "If you were Sam, why would you cheat on me?" Casey hissed sneeringly. She asked me that on purpose, knowing that I loved her, and knowing I'd have absolutely no chance with her once I told her the answer. She wanted to make me suffer for what Sam had done. And I'm fine paying for my own crimes, but I will not suffer for what Sam did. I am not Sam, damnit! So I said nothing. Casey shook me by the collar then like she was trying to shake me until I told her what she wanted to hear.
Problem is that I didn't know what she wanted to hear. So I said the only thing I could. I guess, the only thing she could accept. I bet you anything she knew exactly what I was going to say. "He wanted to get laid, Casey, and he didn't give a damn who did it," I screamed back, clamping my hands around her wrists and pulling her hands off my collar. I shoved her back on to her bed. This time I was the pissed-off one losing his control. Just frickin' peachy. Casey froze after I said that. Her hands were shaking, and she was numb. But she knew that's what I had to say. Because that was why Sam did it. He wanted to have sex, but he didn't want to have sex with Casey. Dumbass.
To my horror, Casey started crying, and I immediately felt like crap. I knew about Sam, and still I say something so monumentally stupid and insensitive like that. But she wanted me to say it! Maybe she even needed me to say it! I wanted to do nothing more than leave because I should've never come in the first place. And now, to top it all off, I'd made her cry again. I always feel lousy when I make Casey cry. And like any guy, I'm lost around a sobbing chick. I feel completely overwhelmed, and I can't do anything.
Actually, to be more accurate, Casey started wailing, yes, wailing. Her whole face crumpled, and she collapsed unto her bed, curling up into a little ball. I was about ready to go get Lizzie when it occurred to me that I ought to at least try to do something. I walked over to Casey, trying to compose myself. Somehow my breathing had sped up. I smoothed my hair reflexively and then gingerly sat down on the edge of Casey's bed. This is new territory for me. I've never done this before. I gently placed my hand on my shoulder. Casey stiffened at my touch. I wanted to remove my hand, but I found that I couldn't. I moved a little closer to Casey out of necessity. "Casey, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that," I whispered apologetically. I really hadn't meant to say it, and I didn't want to hurt Casey.
Casey said nothing, but her shoulders shook a little less. I rubbed her back and tried to smile. "It's not what's wrong with you, Casey... It's what's wrong with Sam. Sam made the decision. It isn't your fault. You didn't push him to it. He's just not the right guy for you, that's all. You'll find a new one, a better one... one who loves you and would never do that to you. And then it'll get better, Case," I murmured reassuringly, trying somehow to explain it to her in nice words. It was a vast understatement, but it would have to do. Casey's tears slowed. "It'll get better, Casey. Just give it time," I mumbled, caressing her silky hair. Casey stopped crying.
She turned on her side to look at me, wiping lightly at her eyes. The tiniest of smiles was on her lips. For once, she looked just a little bit hopeful. I couldn't believe it. Just a few of my words had made her stop crying? I had made her feel better? Maybe I can do this whole comforting thing after all! She smiled a thin, watery smile, pulling her head unto my lap. "Thanks, Derek. I needed to hear that," She said gratefully. Her voice was so soft I had to lean in to hear her. "Sam never really loved me in the first place, and I was just too blind to see it," Casey lamented tearfully. Her nails dug into my thighs, and I bit my lip.
She hurled herself at me like a wild thing, knocking me over. She buried her face in my chest and started to sob once again. Honestly, I will never understand Casey. Just when I think I know her, she does something like this. I get that they broke up and she loved him, but does she have to be so overly emotional about it? She's better off without him anyways. Why can't she just listen to that whiny girl music? I could, however, do nothing more than put my arms around her and whisper nonsense in her ear. I don't remember what I said, but it sounded soothing. She also didn't punch my lights out, so I apparently said nothing offensive.
I felt Casey wrap her arms around me just a little. Her hands brushed against my chest. She snuggled closer to me so that she was now half on top of me. If I didn't know her better, I'd say she was doing it on purpose! But such a thought was, of course, utterly ridiculous. "I can fix that," Casey muttered in a low voice, lifting her head away from my stomach just enough so that I could hear her. Our eyes met. Fix what? I hadn't realized I'd asked my question out loud until Casey, head still raised, answered me. "What you said before. I can fix that, Derek," She replied blankly. I swallowed hard. Her voice was icy. Maybe my apology hadn't worked out. How odd. I'd actually meant that one.
I remembered what I said before. How could I forget? It was about Sam getting laid. I said that was pretty much why he cheated. It's why I'd cheat too, but I am not a cheater. Not even on Kendra, excepting that one time that I tried to go out with another girl. Point is, I didn't have sex with anyone while I was dating her. And that was, unfortunately, a longer while than I would've wished. But jeez, she was worse than Casey. I mean, seriously, she was so dramatic she put Casey to shame. And so annoying and uninteresting... and bimbo-ish. And clingy as hell! Wait, why am I thinking about my annoying ex-girlfriend?
Oh, right. It's either that or thinking about what Casey means when she says she can "fix" it. What, is she gonna sleep with every guy she dates now? Please, oh, please, God, don't let that be true! Please don't tell me I talked her into putting out for the nameless losers she'll date. I don't want Casey to have a sex life. Because then I'll have to hear people talking about my sister in the locker room and... well, that's not really talk I want to hear. Maybe I've created a monster here. I will never give Casey advice on guys again. Never. In fact, I want to lock her up in a nunnery for the rest of her life and only let gay men (not including Sam), family, and myself visit her.
I was frowning. Casey shrugged and pouted. "Well, I can," She remarked diffidently. But just because she can doesn't mean she should. And wow, look at how much of a hypocrite I am! I shook my head. Casey's eyes narrowed and she pulled her neck up a little higher. "After all, then guys like you would want to date me," She retorted bitterly, making it clear just how little she thought of guys like me. If I had been standing, I would've winced. Harsh. I was not like Sam. Not when it came to Casey, and not when it came to screwing dudes. She can say whatever the hell she wants, but I don't pressure girls into having sex with me. I'm shallow enough to dump them for it, but it's not like I wouldn't have dumped them for another reason anyways. I don't string them along. A couple of weeks or a few days, maybe... The girls do what they want to do. I don't make anyone do anything they don't want to do.
Besides, I already wanted to date Casey. And I wasn't getting laid. Not that Casey considered that. Casey screwed up her face. "Oh, yes, let's fix that, then, shall we?" Casey replied dryly, mockingly. I couldn't decide if she meant it or not. If she did, she was propositioning me. If she was, I wouldn't mind. Casey pushed herself up, but she didn't really move. Parts of her body were still brushing against mine, and it was driving me insane. "So Sam doesn't love me because I won't give it up to him, huh?" Casey asked almost seductively, playing with my collar. Her voice was more sardonic, though, than sexy. Casey laughed just once, a harsh, caustic laugh. She sneered down at me; somehow she'd wound up facing me and on top of me. "And you," She began, pausing to punctuate her statement by poking me in the chest. "You're a complete whore, but you love me. I haven't given you anything, and you love me. How does that work, Derek?" Casey snarled, pushing me down.
For starters, I can't say why Sam doesn't love Casey. I'm not Sam. But the guy has always been a dumbass, and now he's just an asshole. Maybe he's not capable of it. Maybe something just snapped in him, and no one, not even Casey, could fix it. And secondly, I don't know how that works! I just know I love Casey... and isn't that really all I need to know? So I shrugged because that was the only thing I could do, really. Casey's eyes narrowed in irritation. She was mad that I wasn't talking. Odd for a girl who spends quite a bit of time trying to get me to shut up. She glared at me until I answered. "I don't know. All I know is that I love you," I said slowly.
Casey laughed mockingly. She was laughing at me. "That doesn't surprise me." She was obviously referencing my apparent stupidity. I'm not gonna say that didn't piss me off, because it did. I am not a stupid guy. I just act stupid and make it seem like I'm stupid when in reality I'm just an underachiever. Besides, it's not "cool" to be smart. But I deserve it. It's not like I'm not conscious of the way my actions appear. And after all, she'd just dumped her boyfriend. She had a right to be angry, even if her anger was directed towards the wrong guy. That's all I've ever been to Casey. The wrong guy. It's really a wonder she's ever kissed me. But even the self-righteous need to be wrong sometimes, even if they'd never admit to it.
Then Casey surprised me. She gave me a deep, penetrating look. It almost seemed like she was searching for something in my eyes. After she'd surveyed me long enough, she seemed to decide something. An enigmatic look I'd never seen before appeared in her eyes, and I had no idea what it meant. For all I knew, she was gonna try and kill me. But like I said, she surprised me. Casey's arms went slack and she was basically flush against me. At first I thought it was an accident, but then Casey put her hands on my cheeks and leaned forward. She delivered a kiss that turned my world upside down. I'm not the type of guy to be strongly affected by one kiss, but it happened. I can't tell you why this kiss was different, but I knew that nothing between us would ever be the same afterwards. She didn't kiss like Casey would. It was rough, wild, and fierce. And, above all, passionate. The kiss was like a sexual manifestation, or rather, the culmination of all of our verbal arguments.
Casey only pulled back when she ran out of air. Her eyes were a dark, inky blue and clouded. She was so close I could feel the fringe of her eyelashes on my cheek. I tried to sit up a little; it was an awkward position and not wholly comfortable. Casey pushed me down with both hands. I raised an eyebrow at her, confused by her sudden action. It kind of came out of nowhere, and Casey is, by no means, an impulsive person. I wanted to ask her what it meant, but analyzing a love interest's every move is a little too Casey-like for me.
There was something very strange about this. Something not right, as much as it pains me to admit that. Like they say, if it looks too good to be true... it usually is. It also looked a lot like she was just using me. Normally, I wouldn't mind that, but it was Casey, honest Casey. I expected more from Casey. I loved Casey. I would not use Casey. And, okay, sue me; I didn't want to be her rebound guy. That's just insulting. I resisted her hands and sat up, frowning. "You're in love with Sam, Casey," I pointed out with disdain. She'd made that very clear, and I was just a little bitter about it. She kept saying it over and over again, and every time she said it, it made me a little sicker. I wasn't gonna make it easy for her or let her think that she could just come running to me when it didn't work out with Sam. She'd put me through hell and back almost, so I figured I ought to make it a little harder for her.
Just so I could know if she actually wanted me.
Casey flinched at the mention of her ex. I felt her stiffen. I could tell the break-up was still bothering her. What did she think I was, stupid? Did she think I wouldn't notice that she still had feelings for her ex? Apparently she did. She thought I would be blinded by her finally giving me a chance. How little, then, she thinks of me. "He cheated on me," She said in a low, measured voice. She was particularly careful to avoid any more emotional outbursts. "He is dead to me," Casey hissed maliciously. I never knew she had it in her.
Then Casey leaned her head against my chest, holding on to me. I couldn't see her face. I felt her sigh against me. "He doesn't love me, Derek, and you do. That's all that matters now," She murmured softly. She sounded almost resigned. Then Casey looked up at me, with earnest, shining eyes. But I couldn't believe her. Because in that entire statement, vehement as it was, she had never once denied loving Sam... and, more importantly, she had never mentioned her feelings towards me. I know it sounds stupid or weird or whatever, but I wanted her to acknowledge that there was something between us. How lame was it for her to consider being with me just because she knew I loved her and wouldn't cheat on her? Because, apparently, a guy like me would, in this case, actually be the safer option. I resented that.
I wanted nothing more than to give in, but I was so frustrated. I had no right to be, but I was. She tried to kiss me again, and it killed me to do it, but I pulled away. "You don't love me, Casey," I said, feeling all the bitterness and rejection welling up in me. How often had she denied that? How much had she hated me and everything about me? How many absolutely horrible things had she said, knowing I loved her? She didn't get to just come running to me because she'd made a mistake. It wasn't fair to me. I didn't know what the hell she felt. How could I? She'd spent so much time denying there was anything there. Her sudden 180 really pissed me off. Like, what, I was her second choice? I know she's vulnerable and all, but I wasn't gonna be someone's second choice. I deserve better than that. I respect myself too much for that. I am the first choice. Period. I am always the first choice, and I wasn't gonna play second to Sam, of all people.
Not even for Casey.
It was just another way Casey was toying with me. I didn't like the fact that she thought she could kiss me a few times, and I'd just kowtow to her will. It doesn't work like that. Casey's eyes narrowed. Apparently the frustration was catching. "That never stopped you before," She retorted icily. Low blow. She was right, of course. It hadn't. I wasn't exactly proud of that, but I get things done. Just look at where she is now. On top of me. See my point? I was persistent as can be, even when she didn't want to see it. And maybe it's paying off. But, Hell, she still doesn't want to see it. She just wants someone to comfort her after the Break-Up from Hell, and I'm not going to be that person. Never again will I be a shoulder to cry on. I don't like Casey when she's like this. She's not acting like herself, at least not the Casey I know.
I had to get out of her room. I saw only two possible conclusions to the night if I did. One of them involves murder. Both of them involve me somehow expressing all the rage I keep carefully bottled up inside on Casey. Both of them also involve bloodshed. If I didn't get out soon, I would lose my mind... and definitely do something I'd wind up regretting later on. I wasn't keen on staying to find out which sin it'd be. I ripped Casey's hands off of me. She wasn't in her right mind. Obviously. I think she lost more than a few of her marbles when she caught Sam in the bathroom in the middle of an orgy. And while I can sympathize with that scarring sight, I cannot sympathize with her trying to use me. It's not going to make it better. It'll just mess things up, make everything a hell of a lot more confusing... and make it that much worse. I love her enough to not inflict that on her. And I don't trust myself to stay and do the right thing; therefore the right thing is to leave.
"You don't want me, Casey," I growled, feeling the rage surge in my veins. I said this while heading briskly towards the door. Running would be cowardly. Plus, my mind was made up. What could she possibly say to make me stay? Nothing. Once my mind's made up, I change it for no one. My hand was on the doorknob within a few moments. I didn't look back. I didn't exactly want to leave her like this, but it had to be done. For her safety and my sanity. I opened the door and had set one foot firmly outside when she said something. Casey always has to have the last word, after all.
"The very first thing I learned when I moved in here was that Derek Michael Venturi always gets what he wants," She began loudly, sliding off the bed and rising to her feet. The way she said my full name sent a chill down my spine. That stopped me dead in my tracks. I didn't know she even knew my middle name. I hate to admit it, but I wanted to see where she was going with that. It was a very general, very true statement. And she admitted it, which intrigued me.
"You want me," She stated blithely, bluntly. It was, after all, a fact. That made me turn around. Cutting straight to the chase, aren't we, Case? I stood there stoically, but I didn't deny it. Unlike Casey, I refuse to deny the truth. I was a little surprised, actually. Casey gave me a look, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, you do, don't you?" She asked rhetorically. To answer the question, I met her gaze head-on. I wasn't ashamed of it, no matter how much Casey tried to make me. Casey continued on like I wasn't even there. "You've made that painfully obvious." That one cut a little, but I had. She just didn't have to be such a bitch about it.
My fury, which had previously been fading as I got further and further away, now rose sharply. Faaaantastic. Five seconds, and she's already pissing me off. Just by stating the obvious. Wow. That has to be a record. Casey went on like she didn't even notice how much she was irritating me. After all, she'd gotten me to stay, even if it was for only a few moments longer. I was leaving when she was done talking, period. Nothing she would ever say could change my mind. Unless she said she loves me, but come on, how farfetched is that?
"And here I am..." Casey whispered, raising her eyebrows, placing her hands on her hips defiantly, standing before me in all her glory. Her window was open, so the moonlight was gleaming on her porcelain skin. She looked like a goddess standing there, and she knew it. She paused deliberately, tilting her head back and staring at me with dark, forbidding eyes. She walked toward me slowly, and I grew wary. Casey stopped a few feet short of her target, when she was sure that I was entranced. She wanted to be unattainable yet within reach. Twisted, isn't it? Then she looked me dead in the eye. "Finally ready to let you have what you want most," She declared huskily, even seductively. Her stare was utterly naked, and she'd been stripped of all her pretenses in a few moments. Her eyes were dark yet alive with pure lust, a hidden passion lingering in their grey-blue depths.
That's when it hit me. Finally ready, huh? She licked her lips then, deliberately, knowing full well what she was doing and how it would affect me. I swallowed hard. It was awful hard to turn down an offer like that. Terribly so. Casey's face, formerly inviting and warm, turned cold and hard. "Yet you would turn me down for what, the scruples you don't have?" Casey sniped frostily. Her eyes were like daggers. And okay, so maybe I'm not the most moral guy out there, but even I know when not to cross the line. She shook her head scornfully, like she was disappointed in me. Because she'd expected me to be a horny playboy only good for a roll in the hay 24-7, and she still didn't exactly think me capable of... purer motives, like love.
"Don't pretend that you would ever turn down an offer like this because I know you, Derek, and I know you would do it in a heartbeat," Casey snarled in a voice full of assurance. She was right again, almost. I would if I loved her, and I did. And, contrary to her beliefs, I would say no to someone else under these circumstances. There is a right way to do things, and sometimes, even the wrong guy has to do the right thing. Because giving in now, when she's vulnerable and angry and upset... It wouldn't be right. And with Casey, I want it to be right. I want it to be perfect. I don't want to give her a reason to regret it. "You don't really object to it," Casey insisted like she knew me, like she could see straight into my heart and my head and knew it was true. But she didn't, and I did.
If she wanted to talk me into temptation, she was just going to have to try harder. 'Cause I wasn't going to give in, no, not this time. If I do, then I'm nothing more than the asshole she thinks I am. Casey rolled her eyes and gave me a patronizing look. She placed her hand on my arm, and I stiffened under her touch. "We both know this has been building up for months. There's absolutely no need to deny it anymore. Why fight it?" Casey said soothing, trying to manipulate me. I have to say... that threw me for a loop. Casey wasn't denying it for once? Will wonders never cease? She was making me think, unfortunately, and thinking was bad. Not thinking was even worse, though. I didn't notice she'd come closer until it was too late.
She shut the door behind me. I looked again, and there she was, up close and personal. Her lips were pouty and full, only centimeters away from mine. I could feel her chest, her body, just brushing against mine. We weren't quite pressed up against each other, but we were pretty close. She dropped her arms to her sides and leaned forward just a little. Her nose accidentally touched mine. "If you really want me," She breathed as her eyelids fluttered, "then take me." It was an open invitation. "I'm yours."
And then she was falling into my arms, and we were kissing like there was no tomorrow. I was pressed up against the door; she was pressed against me. The door locked, probably due to Casey's fumbling fingers. I couldn't leave now, even if I wanted to. There wasn't a thought in my mind except that she was here, and she was real. I could feel her warm skin underneath my hands. It was finally happening. My daydreams and wishes were finally coming true. She was all mine now. I was euphoric. Casey felt so good, though, and she was letting me touch her and kiss her and do all those things I'd wanted to do but couldn't for so long. Of course it wouldn't last.
We only pulled away from air, but eventually I started to notice that I wasn't quite pressed up against the wall anymore. In fact, Casey was pulling me towards the bed, trying to distract me with one hot kiss after another. It had been working, though. I wasn't too proud to deny that. That woke me up, snapped me out of the haze of lust and ecstasy. Casey was vulnerable, and I couldn't take advantage of her. That was wrong. Only it became harder to remind myself of that with every kiss. And then my back hit the bed, the soft, comfortable bed. Casey followed me. As addicting as kissing her was, I couldn't let this happen. I pulled away, and when she tried to kiss me again, I held her back. "Casey, you don't want me. You don't want this. You'll just regret it later," I tried to tell her.
Casey shot me a look and tried to kiss me again, but I was adamant. Casey sure wised up fast. Her eyes were steely with resolve, and she made sure to look me dead in the eye when she spoke. "I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't want this. I wouldn't have let you walk in my door if I wasn't ready for this. I want this, Derek," She assured me slowly, repetitively, trying to make sure I got the message. I didn't believe her then, so I kept holding her back. Casey shook her head irritably like she thought I had her all wrong. The ghost of a bitter smile appeared on her lips. You don't understand, it seemed to say. "I knew this was gonna happen the minute you walked in, and I didn't tell you to go. I didn't force you out. I didn't make you leave. I let you stay because I wanted you to stay," Casey stated plainly, making everything very clear. I hated myself, but I was starting to believe her. She could've easily done all those things, but she made a conscious decision not to.
This time Casey pulled away from me, settling herself on the bed. She threw her head back upon the pillows, staring at me with dark, flinty eyes. Eyes that were hard and decisive like blue diamonds. She adjusted her hips, making herself comfortable, feeling my eyes on her. She threw a hand back over her head. The other one lay, palm facing upwards, on the bed near her thigh. "I know what I'm getting into, Derek." I shot her a skeptical look, surprise glittering in my eyes. You have absolutely no idea, I thought. After all, Princess had no idea what to do with a real man, right? She'd been with Sammy far too long. She shook her head slowly, almost like she knew what I was thinking, saying her words so quietly I had to lean in extra close to hear them. "I'm not going to make you stop," She promised firmly with eyes full of challenge. Strangely, I believed her. But I wanted her to tell me to stop so damn bad, and I didn't know why.
I couldn't say anything, not even one damn word. She reached over and placed her hands on my shoulders lightly, just enough so that I could feel her there. One of the straps of her dress fell down her arm. She didn't attempt to fix it. She didn't pull me towards her or try to kiss me again. She just laid there in repose, calm as can be, hands outstretched on my shoulders. I wasn't on top of her or anything; I was just sort of sitting nearby. She looked at me quietly as if waiting for me to make a choice. I knew what choice I had to make. What choice I should make. "I have a choice, and I've made it," She replied serenely with an air of finality. And then she took my hand and placed it over her heart. I could feel her heart beating underneath my hand, faster and faintly. The "I choose you" was unspoken. She was looking at me with those damned eyes, too, and I felt completely powerless for once in my life.
And I did it. I, the infamously stubborn Derek Michael Venturi, changed my mind.
But I couldn't help it. I've never been one to resist the forbidden fruit. And I happen to have this self-control problem. As in I don't have any. So I pulled her close anyways, and I took her in my arms despite all rationality, and, so help me, I kissed her. Even though it was the wrong thing to do. She didn't say stop, just like she'd promised. I trailed my fingers down her chest, over the smooth skin the v of her neckline didn't cover just between her breasts. It didn't seem real, what I was doing. It felt like I had to hurry, that it was just a fleeting moment and soon enough she'd tell me to stop like always, and I had to get all I could in that one moment. I felt around the back of the dress she was wearing for the zipper, jerking it down abruptly. Casey gasped, and I paused for a moment, inhaling greedily. Then, a moment later, when I had almost given up hope, Casey pulled me to her again in a hungry kiss.
I smiled against her lips, thereby reassured. Within moments I was pulling down the straps of that dress, completely on top of her. I wasn't ripping it off of her, just tugging anxiously, wanting it to be down and off faster. It seemed to suit Casey; she had no complaints. Even if she had breath enough to speak, for once I'm sure she would've actually approved. It kinda surprised me but kinda thrilled me at the same time. Casey didn't seem like the fast type of girl, the one who wanted it hard and angry and done with. I'm not that kind of guy, usually, but I try and give the ladies what they want. If her moans were any indication (and they always are), she was completely into it.
Her ivory arms were finally free of their vivid green constraints. I pulled the fabric of the dress down to her waist, pressing reverent kisses to her skin. She was wearing a lacy black bra, the bra of a girl who'd planned for something just like this. It was a sign, I thought, so I kept going. But I couldn't help but notice the way she sucked a breath in as I kissed further and further down her torso, across her abdomen. I kissed my way back up when I noticed her trembling. Casey was so still and so silent. Her skin was cold, not from the room, but as if she'd been sweaty. Her skin was almost clammy that way, cool and slick. I ran my hungry fingers over the impersonal, classic black lace push-up bra. I was aching for a touch, a taste.
I increased the pressure of my lips on her neck. Nipping at the tender flesh, tasting, memorizing, sucking hard enough to leave my mark all over her. Everyone would know she was mine. I didn't care how many weeks she'd have to wear a turtleneck. Besides, there was always Sam to blame. Casey shuddered and even winced sometimes, in between the moans... so I stopped and kissed her full on the mouth. She didn't move much after that. She just let my body rest on top of hers for a while. I ran my hands all over her, trying to commit the feeling to memory. Casey tasted a little like peppermint and punch and cherry lip-gloss. She tasted too sweet, though, like some sugary food that leaves a bad, strange taste in your mouth after the sugar fades away. And then I didn't much want to kiss her as much, so I pulled back.
It had become clear to me that she wasn't going to call it all off suddenly and leave me hanging in the lurch. Still, I didn't wholly trust Casey. I trusted myself, though, even less. Casey's lips were swollen and pink from my kisses. It flattered her. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a mess of curls. She looked absolutely amazing, like a dream come to life. Her eyes were a deep indigo, almost black, the color of midnight and the deepest parts of the ocean, the part that light rarely visits. There was a hint, or rather a flash of violet too in those irises. It occurred to me suddenly that this was just about the most undone I'd ever seen Casey. And I had made her this way. It was almost the most completely undone I'd ever see her, but that happened later. I had her completely at my mercy, completely at my will. She was mine for the taking.
I nearly shook with anticipation at the thought. I wanted her so badly I could taste it; I could picture it all happening exactly as I'd imagined it time and time again. Only not quite. But still, my twitching hands slid past her chest and around her back. I fumbled with the clasps of her bra, damn near waged a war with the thing, but it wouldn't open to my magic hands. I never have trouble unfastening a bra. Never. I can usually do it in under 2 seconds. I can even unfasten the bra and take it off while the girl's still wearing a top. Hell, a few times I've even just looked at the girl's bra, and it has come undone. So why was I having trouble now, when it seemingly mattered the most? After all, I needed to impress Casey. Desperately, for some reason, I had to impress Casey, to make it worth her while... or what, she'd decide she didn't want this after all?
I fumbled around a bit more. Casey sat up a little, frustrated with me. She pouted and rolled her eyes. Then she put her hands on mine and threw my hands to the side. "Don't act like you've never done this before," Casey hissed in a throaty voice. I know it was taking a while, but I didn't get why she was pissed. Unless she'd screwed some guy at her old school, which I seriously doubted, she was a virgin. And therefore, what the hell did she know about it anyways? What she's seen in the movies?
I glanced down at my hands. I hadn't even noticed that my hands were shaking. Casey put a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at her. She shifted beneath me purposefully. "Derek, it's a front-clasp bra," She pointed out stiffly. That would've been funny if I wasn't so nervous and doing it all wrong. I laughed nervously and looked down to confirm that indeed, it was. How had I missed that single snap? Easy access. It was almost like she'd planned it this way. I forced a smile and kissed her hard enough so that she'd forget (I hoped).
I don't think she did, but she didn't say anything and seemed as responsive as ever. I toyed with the snap, deliberately snapping and unsnapping it. I think the sound damn near drove Casey crazy because eventually she just grabbed my hand and undid it herself. She looked frustrated that we were getting nowhere. We were getting nowhere. If it was any other girl, I'd have her stripped bare by now. But this was Casey, and Casey was something special. Not just any other girl. Casey mattered to me, and none of the other girls ever had. I don't normally waste time with a girl. Not like I was doing now. But something in me... I just couldn't do it, you know? I couldn't take Casey like I wanted to.
Because the Casey I knew resisted me. She was suspicious of all my motives, didn't trust me, and completely hated me. I was used to that, and I kind of felt pretty much the same way (see above if you want proof). The Casey I knew was buried deep in denial, and she fought me. She fights me like no one else ever has. That's my favorite thing about her. Casey makes me furious, and I am by no means an emotional man. Casey makes me feel things other than lust, apathy, and victory. Casey makes me want to be a better person, and I make her a worse person. But fundamentally I'm not a better person, which was why I was still there with her, despite all my objections.
This Casey is so submissive. She doesn't do much of anything except kiss back and lie there. I didn't want her like this. I didn't want her to surrender, to be resigned and bitter about it. I wanted her to give in willingly. I wanted her to mean it like I meant it. I wanted her to want me for me, not just for what physical comfort I could offer. I'm not that freakin' shallow, okay? I do have feelings, as much as I try to deny it and hate, HATE to admit it. Because, Hell, I could have sex with anyone, and I'd feel basically the same. You know, it was nice while it lasted, and maybe some of them were lousy in bed or made me do all the damn work or didn't even get me off... but in the end, none of them really meant anything more to me than a few moments of mindless, empty physical satisfaction, and maybe a bit of release. But Casey meant more to me than just a lay. I loved her, damnit! It wouldn't be the same with her as it was with any other girl. So I couldn't just do her, tear all her clothes off and screw her brains out. I'd hate myself if I did that.
It sounds weird that a guy like me actually gives a damn about this sort of thing, especially now, but I do have a moral code. I know what's right and what's wrong. And I do feel guilty if I treat her lousy. Casey's changed me and all. I couldn't help it, but the more I thought about it, the more wrong it became to me, the guiltier I felt... and the more I couldn't do it. I couldn't help it.
It felt like I was just about to carelessly steal her most prized possession, something so very precious that she could never take back. Not really. I didn't want to tear her up inside, wrench her heart, and break her. I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to rip it out of her hands; in the end, I'd wind up with her blood on my hands. I was almost hesitant to touch her because I certainly wasn't good enough for her or what she expected, what she deserved. My hands were dirty and unworthy and calloused, rough and coarse. She was still like some unapproachable, unattainable ideal to me. I'd placed her up high on that pedestal, all marble skin, smooth curves, and delicate carving. It felt wrong to want to soil that vision of ethereal perfection.
I was almost afraid that she'd break if I touched her in the wrong way. Or that if I carried it out, if I really did this... then I'd lose Casey. I thought she'd lose her precious self-respect, her prized dignity, her brutal aloofness, her demanding sense of justice and fairness and self-righteousness, her bossiness, and her mystery by giving in to me... and then what would I love about her? What would she even be to me then? She wouldn't even be Casey anymore, but someone else entirely. I wouldn't know her; she would be a stranger. Maybe it was better for me to stay away... better for her, me, the both of us.
And then there was the unsettling question of what the hell would happen afterward. Most of my relationships with girls didn't last very long after... well, after. I got bored, sick of one girl. What if the reason I wanted Casey so bad was just because I couldn't have her? What's it gonna be like then when all the sexual tension is gone? How's this whole thing going to work, or is it even going to work? And is this just a one-night thing or what, something real? Casey's not the only one sailing in uncharted waters here. So I just... I couldn't. So I snapped the front of the bra again and started to get off of her, feeling awkward and embarrassed. I can't even imagine what Casey's thinking of me now (the words "All talk and no action" come to mind), but I don't care. I was going to do the right thing for once in my goddamn life, and she wasn't going to ruin it for me. After all, I'm doing it for her!
For once, I'm not being selfish here. I had to get out. I needed it so badly that I stumbled getting up. I felt somehow ashamed; I couldn't even look at Casey. I'd made my way to the door, fingers ready to undo the lock when Casey spoke. "I want you, Derek," She murmured in such a voice that it left no room for alternate interpretation. It was more of a whine with a frustrated hint of desperation. But it was believable, clear, exactly what I had been longing to hear... and I ate it up like a sucker. That was enough for me. I was a goner. So of course I had to look back at her, and she was just lying there, looking comfortable, warm, and achingly beautiful.
And I just couldn't say no. She was still heartbroken, reeling from my best friend's betrayal. Right then, I was all she had in the world. I loved her, so wasn't it my duty to look after her? Wasn't I supposed to stay? Okay, it was a lousy way of convincing myself I was doing the right thing, but I had to. Because sometimes the wrong need to be convinced that they're right, just like the righteous need to do something wrong every now and then. I guess maybe Casey needed to be wrong; I was that wrong thing. I couldn't crush her like that; I couldn't reject her like he had. I might be cruel, but I'm not heartless. I'm not as strong as I look; I'm not the god or king people make me out to be. In the end, I'm just a weak man.
I took a deep breath and walked over to Casey, pressing my lips against hers. She pulled me down with her, over her, actively this time. She peeled off my blazer, ripping my arms out of the sleeves, and tossing it on the floor. Her fingers hurried over the buttons of my shirt, trying to undo it as fast as she could. But I stopped her; this was something I wanted to savor, to engrave in my memory. I fully intended to value every last moment, good 'til the last drop. I didn't just want to get it over with, wham, bam, and the thrill would be gone like that. I wanted to take my time, to enjoy it. I wanted her to remember it. Slow. I let her unbutton my shirt then, slowly... let it fall to the floor. I concentrated all of my being on kissing her, tugging her dress over her hips inch by inch. It tortured me to do it, but I wanted to give her choices. I wanted her to be fully positive that this... that I... was what she wanted.
Casey didn't want to wait or prolong it. But eventually Casey wasn't wearing the dress; it was nothing more, just a puddle of green fabric on the floor. She was only wearing lacy black lingerie and the necklace I gave her. And then her fingers became insistent and struggled hard with the zipper of my jeans. It was stuck and painfully so, but my Casey persisted. Again and again she battled with my zipper until she jerked it down so suddenly that it hurt. Seconds later, thanks to her nimble fingers, my pants were around my ankles. I kicked them off.
I wasn't thinking straight. I was dizzy from the heady passion and coming so close to the realization of my aspirations. My fingers slid down to the snap of her bra, playing with it, almost toying with her. I kissed past her lips, across her cheeks, over her jaw, down her neck, along her collarbone... She wrapped her arms tightly around me, dragging me deeper into the kiss. Her fingers buried themselves in my hair, amusing themselves with the ends of my hair. Her nails dug into the back of my neck, which stung. I wound my arms around her, and then I unclasped her bra. She moved her arms so I could better remove it, and would you believe me when I say I didn't look? You wouldn't, but that's the truth. I had the chance to see and memorize what I'd merely dreamt of seeing and possessing and touching for so long, yet I didn't. I didn't do any of those things, not yet. I held on tight; her skin pressing against my skin almost everywhere except... her coolness meeting with my warmth. I was inflamed with the fires of desire, and she was frozen with submission.
My hot hand crept down her stomach to her hip; my fingers latched unto the band of her underwear. I had done it unwittingly, without knowing what I was doing. It came to me as naturally as breathing; I was accustomed to this. But I pulled back, extricated myself from the kiss, although I did not remove myself from her embrace; her skin was still hotly flush against mine. My hand stayed where it was. I disciplined myself harshly to insure that it remained in its place. I didn't want to invade Casey; I had to be absolutely certain. Because if I did what my fingers were long itching and suffering to do, there was no going back. Even Casey couldn't deny that it had happened. She might try, but it would never, ever work. And she was not at all drunk; she would have to remember clearly. At best, she could merely excuse it, but never could she take it back. She couldn't reclaim what she would lose. And she had to want it, really want it, for me to do it without guilt.
I held back for a moment, letting the sheen of lust clear just a little from her eyes. Her eyes, which had been closed, opened slowly to look back at me. I saw myself reflected in those eyes, looming large and fearsome. Her pupils were wide, dilated. I gave pause, and I waited impatiently for an answer... An answer I thought I could believe. But a part of me would never accept that answer, even after it was done, and maybe that was why I held back and denied myself of the pleasure, true to form, like Casey, for so long. As you well know, I am not a man of indeterminable self-control. I wanted her sensible; I wanted her to know full well what she was doing, and I wanted her to say yes with that sentiment in mind. So I just stared at her, saying nothing and waiting for a sign.
Casey didn't want to give me a sign. She refused, stubborn and staid, even to move. She barely breathed, and we continued on like this for what seemed an eternity. I held my breath unconsciously, unsure of what would come. I wasn't sure what I would do. But eventually she relented. Even frozen, froward Casey had to give in and break at some point. She exhaled deeply, nearly shuddering with it. She leaned her forehead against mine, looked me dead in the eyes, dropping all pretext. "This either happens now or not at all," Casey hissed, meaning every word. She pressed a stream of wet kisses down my jaw line, only stopping when she reached my lips, which she quickly captured in a passionate kiss. A kiss that sealed all my doubts.
That single statement really put it all in perspective for me, stark contrast. I'd like to say that I was strong, but I'm not. So, forgive me, but I did the wrong thing. You know which road I chose. The path of least resistance. I couldn't take it. When faced with a choice of finally having what I so desired or doing the right thing... I chose now rather than never. Sue me. And I can't even say it felt right at the time because it didn't, not really. It felt good but yet so wrong, and even as I did it, I knew full well that what I was doing was wrong. But I couldn't stop, and I didn't really want to.
I can't say I don't regret my choice because a part of me does. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed Casey like that. Maybe I went too far. Or maybe I just misread absolutely everything, and I'm completely wrong. Hell, maybe I won't even love her tomorrow. But in life, you can't get caught up on the maybes. You can't undo something once you've done it. You have to live in the now. You have to live with the now. So, as much as that tiny part of me regrets it, the rest of me doesn't. I did it; I confess, and I accept it, full responsibility. I willingly acknowledge that most of the blame falls on my shoulders, and I'll bear the punishment when it comes.
Reader, I had sex with her. So help me, God, I did. And as I lie here, spent, sticky and still warm with sweat, in her bed, naked underneath her sheets, staring up at her ceiling, with her sprawled out next to me, basking in the afterglow... and, most importantly, hopelessly deluded and hopelessly in love with her... I can honestly say that it was completely worth it. It was everything I'd always thought and hoped and fantasized it would be and so much more. She was everything I'd ever wanted, and I felt like the luckiest guy on Earth because I finally had it. I wouldn't take it back, not for the world. And maybe it was the heady buzz of the alcohol catching up with me, or the hazy screen of lust still over my eyes, or the fog of euphoria I was still hopelessly lost in, or the dizzying tangle of mystifying emotions I was experiencing, but I think I loved her more than I ever had.
I wanted Casey for her own sake, not for the challenge she presented. And I didn't just want Casey; it wasn't all over now. The feelings weren't gone; it wasn't just leftover sexual tension that had morphed into an infatuation that faded with its consummation. It was real, and I loved Casey. I loved her enough to give her my heart and my love, and, obviously, I don't trust just anyone with my soul. I made the right choice, too. Casey was the right girl, even if I was the wrong guy.
I had been smiling before, contentedly, but upon thinking all this, my smile widened ridiculously, nearly stretching from ear to ear. I didn't want a smoke. I just wanted to rest in my newfound bliss with my... Casey. My eyelids started to flutter closed; it was very, very late, or very early in the morning, and I was exhausted. My eyes shut lightly, and the last thing I saw was a glimmer, a brilliant flash of the moonlight reflecting on the diamond necklace I'd given her. Her skin was opalescent and milky in the soft bluish light and every bit as radiant as the diamonds in the necklace. As I started to drift off, sleepily drawing close to her, draping my arm over her stomach, I knew without a doubt that I wouldn't wake up any less in love with her tomorrow, even if the chase was over... and even if she didn't love me tomorrow.
Loren ;
Reviews are seriously appreciated. Besides, I'm sure you'll want to comment on that. I have a feeling I'm going to be answering all sorts of questions. Thanks so much for all your feedback and just for reading my work. It really does mean a lot to me.