Hush

"This is my fault," she whispers against his ear, as they huddle in the farthest corner of a pitch black room that is....ever so slowly but surely...filling with smoke.

"Hush," he murmurs back.

They can't spend their last few moments on earth arguing about if its his curse or hers that has trapped them in this burning building.

Her words are tear filled. Her body shudders against his. "I tried to warn you. Why the hell didn't you listen to me?"

Its true. She had warned him. Maxie told him before they ever even kissed that every person who loved her paid the price, one way or the other, for that mistake.

But he had refused to listen.

Because he's Johnny Zacchara- and no matter what games he plays at - he will always think he knows it all, that he can be as reckless as he wants and never die. That life should be easy- go his way.

And yet he has known from the day his father sunk a bullet in his mother that his life was never gonna be what it should be.

That dichotomy- wanting it all and knowing that it would all be ruined in the end- has tortured every waking moment of his life since he was eight years old. Made him lash out. Made him run wild. Made him fight back. Made him more that half crazy. Made him not believe her words.

He could have fought his attraction to her longer....kept lying to himself forever...but that would have been the smart and cautious thing to do. And Johnny's just not made that way.

He's made to jump from roof top to roof top in the middle of the rain, half hoping he doesn't make it but always, always, always knowing deep down that he will. Because he was not meant to die by his own reckless ways. It would be some mob shit that took him out. Like tonight.

Trapped in a warehouse that is half collapsed, out of bullets and with no one left alive to fight anyway, steel beams locking them in this room, as the building burns around them. His father's legacy finally catching up with him the way he always knew it would.

That's why he took what Maxie offered him. Because she was right. He was bound to die young. But not by loving her. That was the one thing he got right in this whole fucked up thing called his life.

Finally jerking her close that cool Spring day and kissing her until she couldn't even form coherent sentences anymore. Being the selfish, foolish, destructive man that he could no longer deny he was deep down underneath all the niceties and fairytales he had tried to weave before then.

He was never made for fairytales or happy endings.

His eyes tear, and he tells himself it is because of the smoke, and because of her....because he can't save her. But not because his life will soon end. That don't matter. He was more than half dead every day but the ones he spent in bed with her anyway.

Maxie's breathing is shallow. They have tried to find a way out, only to be driven back by the flames. Soon they will lose consciousness. The blackness they have been slowly sinking into all their lives will consume them. The grave that has been calling will finally take them in.

She asks again "Why couldn't you listen? Why didn't you run from me? Why? Why?" She starts coughing. "Why, Johnny? Damn you!"

His lips find hers in the dark, and speak against her mouth, "You know why," and then he's kissing her, pushing up that little dress of hers, pushing aside her thong, letting his hands splay on the soft warm flesh of her thigh.

She's his. She's all his. And nothing else matters. He can't think about who he is leaving behind or if he could have escaped this fate. There is no time for regrets. There is only time for her.

And he will take her. Again. Because he's just that crazy.

She's shaking and crying and clutching at his black t-shirt. The fire is crackling as it consumes the door. Her hand fumbles through the dark and finds his zipper, yanking it down with frantic urgency...it always has to be fast but this time it has to be now, or never.

Her hands stroke him. And in every touch there is more than just desperation. There is a tender sort of love that shouldn't ever be given to a man like him. But she did and she does and he takes it. He takes from her. Because he's not strong enough to do anything else.

His lungs start to fill with smoke. He can barely think straight now but he still wants this...her...still wants her one last time. Now. Now. Now.

Then her legs come up, wrapping around his waist as they move together, crying and shaking and gasping for breath but there is none to be found. Its all ending...its nearly over...they were both right when they said this will end in death, you better know what you're getting into....and he had.

And it was so worth it.

As they cling together, not willing to let go even after their mutual release, she whispers "I'm sorry for getting you killed."

"Hush. Just hush."

THE END