Song: Just Breathe
Artist: Pearl Jam
Characters: Jim Brass/Sofia Curtis
Did I say that I need you?
Oh, did I say that I want you?
Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool you see..
No one knows this more than me.
As I come clean
Of The Heart
Alone in a bar he raises his bottle to his lips. He has long been numb, insisting he just needs some time to think. But she knows better, she knows him better and she won't let him waste away like this. The bell on the door tinkles as she steps inside, the smell of stale beer is overwhelming. She sees him tucked away in the corner, head buried in large calloused hands.
Her heart breaks for him, knowing he blames himself. He always does. He can sense her presence without even looking, the smell of her skin sickeningly sweet as she inches closer. He's desperate to touch her, to hold her. She can always make it stop hurting. She knows him; sometimes he thinks she knows him better than he knows himself.
When she sits down he allows his head to rise, he needs to see her face, those blue eyes that can melt him on the spot. Her expression is dark and worried, her fingers slightly trembling as they hover above his hand. Slowly she pries the bottle from them and he collapses in her arms, longing for the warmth that always accompanies her body.
He doesn't like to cry, but guilt can do funny things to a man. Even the strongest can crumble under the pressure, picked apart by grief and the ultimate desire to undo their wrongs. She doesn't speak, there's no need as he won't hear her if she does. She holds him instead and listens to the soft sobs, feels the tears that bleed through the fabric of her shirt. They're hot and wet, reminding her of rain in the desert.
There's no one else in the bar right now, and for that she's thankful. There's no one but himself to protect him from, making her job slightly easier. When there are no more tears to cry he raises his head and looks at her, somewhat surprised and somewhat relieved.
"The last thing I said to him.." he trails off, ashamed of himself, wondering why she isn't ashamed either.
"'Consider yourself lucky.' Who says something like that?" he questions desperately. She wants to answer him, she prays that an answer will come to her but all she has to offer him is silence. He doesn't mind though, he knows there is no definite answer to his question, only wishes and thoughts of what could have been.
"Let's get you home," she offers, taking his hand in her smaller one and helping him to his feet. The already consumed alcohol creates a buzz in his head, but she holds him tight and promises she won't let him fall.
In the car he watches the city lights as they dance across the windshield, painting a picture in the sky as they flash and blink, a mural of colors melting together. She hums softly along with the radio, and the sound is soothing so he rests his head against the headrest and closes his eyes. When the car comes to a sudden halt he blinks, sees his apartment and dreads being alone inside with his memories and the voices in his head that just won't stop.
When he stumbles out of the car she chews her bottom lip nervously and rushes to help him. Her touch is like electricity running through him, the skin soft and milky. Inside he sits on the couch and turns on the television, ignoring whatever's on, opting instead to watch her as she moves and swings her hips in his kitchen, searching through the cup boards.
She comes back with a glass of water and a smile, offering it to him before he finally takes it. They sit in silence for a moment, and then she stands and offers a goodnight as she walks to the door. Her hand is hovering above the handle when he speaks, his words slightly slurred but the desperation clear.
"Can you stay? Please?" for a moment she almost denies him, but she wants this too. She wants to feel better, and she wants him to feel better too. Her hand makes a quick retreat back to her side and she turns, her blonde hair creating a waterfall over her shoulder.
She sits beside him, watching the news with a blank stare until he finally works up the courage to speak again. They're two simple words, said quietly and quickly, but they hold a power over her and she knows how much this means to him.
"Thank you."