A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I've been kind of bad; I usually update my other stories first, but I couldn't get this chapter out of my head, and plus, I'm heading into a busy couple of weeks, and I wanted to get this out before the madness hit. I hope that you enjoy it! Peace!
Thank you to Esha Napoleon, darkangelmel, extremist, m-yaz, Lucy Grayson, i luv hardy, Syco's Path, hardyluv, and bubbs for reviewing the last chapter! You're all AWESOME! Love yas!
Chapter 16: You Don't Need Him
Nitro let out a low sigh of contentment, reclining back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Stretching his legs out, he crossed one ankle over the other. A slow grin slipped across the face of the self-proclaimed A-lister. Despite the fact that even after two weeks, he still had yet to reclaim the Intercontinental Championship, just the thought of her was enough to distract him from his present woes. Her long blond hair, those big blue eyes--not to mention that rocking body...
In short, he couldn't stop thinking about Kelly Kelly.
Nitro stopped for a moment, casting a cautious glance in the direction of the closed bathroom door before allowing his ruminations to continue. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game with the ECW Diva, but the former Intercontinental Champion just couldn't help himself. Their hookup after Unforgiven had been so hot--he never would have imagined that someone so young could possess so much...experience--and ever since that night, he had been racking his brain, trying to figure out some way to make a surprise detour to the Land of Extreme without raising too much suspicion.
It wasn't an easy task--the last thing he wanted to do was run afoul of Mike Knox, that serial-killer-in-training that Kelly was dating. Why was it always the hot girls who had nine-foot-tall sociopaths for boyfriends? Besides, if Melina ever found out about him and ECW's resident exhibitionist, there was a good chance that the Dominant Diva would cut his balls off with a dull butter knife. Perhaps the one thing he could be grateful for was that the paparazzi princess, as uber-controlling as she was, had never been vigilant about checking her boyfriend's phone for evidence of infidelity. Good thing, too; if she had, she'd find numerous texts and more than a few incriminating pictures--enough proof to keep him in the doghouse for life.
Nitro glanced toward the bathroom again. The faint sounds of water running emanated through the closed door. For the briefest of seconds, the self-proclaimed A-lister felt a twinge of guilty remorse. Melina was the only person that he trusted, the one individual that he knew he could rely on--if she ever found out about his...extracurricular activities with Kelly--it would devastate her.
In the next instant, though, the feeling passed, and the former Intercontinental Champion quickly shook his head. It wasn't his fault that women found him so damn irresistible. Besides, Kelly might not possess much in the intelligence department, but she more than made up for it in personality, energy, and above all, enthusiasm--all things that Melina had been lacking in as of late.
The bathroom door opened, and Nitro quickly forced himself back to the present. He stretched, arching his arms up and lacing his fingers together behind his head, grinning suggestively at his girlfriend as she stepped out into the main room. "Hey, baby, what took you so long?"
Melina seemed lost in her own little world; she actually jumped a little in surprise when he spoke, as though she had completely forgotten his presence. "What? Oh, nothing...just thinking."
The self-proclaimed A-lister's smile drooped a touch. "What's wrong, Mel?" he asked, making sure to put more concern into his voice than he actually felt. "You feeling all right?"
The paparazzi princess shook her head. "I'm fine," she replied. Reaching up, she ran a hand through her mane of reddish-brown curls. "I"m just tired, that's all."
Nitro's smile remained frozen in place; it was only with effort that he was able to bite back the groan of annoyance that rose in his throat. Whenever Melina said that she was tired, it pretty much guaranteed that he wasn't going to get any. Normally, he would have chalked it up as just another one of those weird hormonal phases that women go through--but in this case, Melina's mood swings had been happening more and more frequently.
Something was bothering her--something that he couldn't figure out--and whatever it was, it was draining the personality and the fire right out of her, leaving behind a pale shadow of the real thing; a moody introverted individual who only bore a physical resemblance to the Dominant Diva he had once fallen for.
At first, he had thought that her morose disposition had been a result of his loss of the Intercontinental Championship--even back in their MNM days, Melina had never taken title losses well. But if that was the case, why wasn't she busting her ass to get his title back? Two weeks, and he still hadn't gotten his rematch--he'd even been left out of the Fatal Four-Way match for the title on tonight's Raw broadcast; the other three spots going to Shelton Benjamin, Chris Masters, and Super Crazy, of all people.
Melina was much more than his girlfriend--she was also his manager; it was her job to ensure his placement in championship matches. So why then, after two weeks, was the self-proclaimed A-lister still title-less?
For a moment, Nitro entertained the horrifying notion that Melina had actually found out about him and Kelly. But in the next, he ultimately dismissed it--he and Kelly had been very very careful; the ECW Diva didn't want her boyfriend finding out about the two of them any more than he wanted Melina to.
Nitro felt the mattress give as Melina climbed onto it, peeling back the covers and slipping beneath them. Reaching up, she switched off the bedside lamp, throwing the room into darkness. Johnny tensed, bracing himself for the obligatory cuddling session; the PG-rated kisses and caresses that stayed above clothing and above the waist. But instead, the paparazzi princess surprised him by curling up on the far edge of the bed, away from him, her back to him.
Nitro stared at her for several long seconds, frowning, bewildered by this unexpected rejection. After a while, however, he shrugged, rolling over onto his side, his puzzlement soon giving way to fantasies of ECW's resident exhibitionist.
As he lay there, imagining him and Kelly on a deserted tropical beach somewhere, he had no way of knowing that--just like him--his girlfriend's dreams were full of someone else...
Melina strode down the hall, reaching up to adjust the edges of her leopard-print ring attire. Even though she was securely taped into her top, it never hurt to check--the last thing she wanted was to have a wardrobe malfunction end up on YouTube, especially during a match as big as this.
In a little while, she would face off against Mickie James in a semi-final match for the Women's Championship. The victor of the bout would have a guaranteed spot in the title match at Cyber Sunday in less than two weeks. For the Dominant Diva, this was her opportunity to prove to the roster, and to that psycho bitch Mickie in particular, that she was much more than just a glorified trophy girlfriend.
Doing so wouldn't be easy, however. Mickie might need to up her lithium dosage, but she had also succeeded where Melina had once failed--beating Trish Stratus for the championship. She had competed and won against the best, and it was no secret that Mickie had been itching for another title opportunity since losing the belt back in August.
Unfortunately, there was only room for two Divas in that Cyber Sunday match--and Mickie was not going to be one of them, not if the paparazzi princess had anything to say about it. Of all the Divas that had given her attitude since she had come to Raw, the former Women's Champion had been always been one of the worst--in some ways, this bout was more about clipping Mickie's wings than it was about the title.
However, despite her impending match--and the opportunity she would have to take the bipolar Ms. James down a peg or two--Melina just couldn't bring herself to care. This was one of the biggest matches of her career, and yet the Dominant Diva couldn't summon up anything more than a faint ghost of anticipation.
It wasn't just tonight--she had been walking through life in a state of chilling numbness for the past week or so. It was as though a thick heavy blanket had been dropped down over her emotions, deadening her to the point of insensitivity. And she didn't know which was more terrifying: the total absence of all feeling--or her complete indifference toward it.
She couldn't feel...anything...anymore--no, wait, that wasn't true. There were moments when sensation would return to her, when she could once again feel her heart beating within her chest--and that was every time she saw Jeff Hardy. Whenever she glimpsed him in the hallways or saw him in the ring, the bottom of her stomach would drop out, and she would experience this acute rush of vertigo, as though she was hurtling toward the ground at a high rate of speed--she could almost feel the wind whipping past her face.
Are we ever going to talk?...That was what the Charismatic Enigma had said to her, one of the last things he had said to her. They never had--and now, they never would, because whenever Melina spotted the younger Hardy brother, he always seem to be in the company of that bimbo Maria, her hand latched onto his arm, her green eyes glued adoringly to his face.
And whenever that happened, the blanket would drop back down over Melina, dulling all feeling once again, and it would be a struggle just putting one foot in front of the other, or stretching her lips back from her teeth in a smile. She felt nothing--and yet at the same time, it hurt worse than anything she had ever experienced, as though a wild animal was tearing her insides to pieces.
The paparazzi princess blinked, returning herself to the present with a nearly audible SNAP. She was nearing the dressing room that she shared with Johnny; she could even hear her boyfriend's voice, low and conversational. She was just about to round the corner and greet him when another voice assaulted her ears; a high-pitched feminine voice that she still heard in her sleep, drifting up out of the darkness of her subconscious:
"But I came here to see you, Johnny!"
Melina froze, paralyzed both by the voice and by its owner's use of the nickname, a nickname that only she was allowed to use. For a moment, she actually felt her heart slow, and then stop within her chest. Slowly, barely able to breathe, on feet that could hardly feel the cement on which they were standing, the Dominant Diva sidled along the wall to the corner, pressing her face to the cinderblock and cautiously peering around the edge.
Almost immediately, shock slammed into her with all the icy discomfort of a bucket of cold water to the face. Just a few yards ahead of her, leaning against the doorframe of the dressing room, was Johnny--her Johnny...and right in front of him, hands on her hips, a seductive smile on her face...was that ECW slut, Kelly Kelly.
As Melina watched, wanting to look away but unable to do so, the blond Diva pouted, thrusting her hip to the side. "I mean, don't you want to see me?" she added, blinking her big eyes innocently.
At this, the former Intercontinental Champion cast a fearful look around. Melina instinctively drew back, but Johnny must not have noticed her presence, because he turned his attention back to Kelly. "Of course I do! You know I do!" the self-proclaimed A-lister insisted, his voice a loud whisper. Another tentative glance. "But--there are all these people around--and Mel could--"
"I don't care about her!" ECW's resident exhibitionist exclaimed. Grabbing hold of the lapels of Nitro's fur coat, she arched her body toward his. The black minidress she was wearing barely covered anything, Melina noted with some disgust; as she leaned toward Johnny, the hem of it was already starting to ride up her ass. "I care about you." Kelly finished, her tone dropping to a suggestive murmur. Letting go of his coat, she trailed her index finger down his chest, tracing the line of his pectoral.
In spite of her growing dissatisfaction with the former Intercontinental Champion, Melina felt a wave of possessive ire crash over her. The Dominant Diva swallowed hard, forcing bile back down her throat. The nerve of that little whore, to come on her show, hit on her boyfriend, and act like she didn't even exist, like she didn't even matter... The audacity of it filled her with rage, hot boiling rage that scorched her insides.
Melina gripped the edge of the wall, her fingers curving into claws, her fingernails clicking softly against the porous painted surface. She wanted nothing more than to leave, to turn her back on this and pretend it had never happened, that none of this had happened--but she couldn't. This hateful knowledge had already taken root inside her, poisoning her to the core, and she had no choice but to stand there and let it fester within her even more.
The paparazzi princess watched as Johnny pushed his designer sunglasses up on top of his head, casting another furtive glance left and right before focusing his attention once again on the ECW Diva. "All right!" the self-proclaimed A-lister reluctantly relented, his voice still barely above a whisper. "Tonight...after the show...I'll meet you back at your hotel room." He paused for a moment, considering. "I'll just tell Mel that I'm going out drinking with the guys--"
That was all that Melina could bear to hear. Withdrawing back behind the corner, she turned on her furry booted heel, storming down the corridor as quickly as her legs would allow. Her stomach was churning with revulsion; she felt like she might throw up at any second. A huge ball of emotion was lodged in her throat, choking her. The Dominant Diva halted, covering her face with her hand, her features already crumbling, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks--
"Melina?"
The paparazzi princess's head shot up, her gaze locking onto the headset-clad technician in front of her. For a second, her expression still mirrored her misery, but in the next, it had been wiped clean, leaving behind only a blank, disinterested mask. The brown irises that stared back at the technician were dull and lifeless--the faint glitter of tears at her lower lashes the only remaining outward sign of her churning emotions. "What?" she snapped, her voice holding no real animosity.
The technician nodded over his shoulder. "They're looking for you at gorilla--your match is up next." His message delivered, he carefully maneuvered past her, his mind already on his next task--certainly not on the Raw Diva's inner anguish.
Melina stood there for a few moments, listening to the barely audible roars of the fans trickling down toward her from the backstage area. The Dominant Diva took a deep breath, then let it out equally so. Clenching her hands into fists, she set off resolutely toward the gorilla position.
Jeff turned away from the monitor, leaning sideways against the wall and taking a deep breath. He was less than a hundred yards from the gorilla position; he could still hear Mickie James's upbeat entrance theme blasting out into the arena, an audible reminder of her victory over the paparazzi princess.
Jeff had nothing against the former Women's Champion--he'd always thought of her as a pretty cool chick, and it had been a tough break for her to lose the title the way she had--but for some reason, he felt less than congratulatory toward her right now.
He'd known that Melina was going to lose almost the second the match had started. It wasn't for lack of wrestling ability--if anything, she was more capable than half the Divas on the roster. He'd been astounded two weeks during her match against Torrie, and even more so in her bout against Mickie, by how skilled she actually was inside the ring. Melina might look like just another piece of eye candy--but there was genuine ability in her, raw natural talent hindered only by the rust of disuse.
But without focus, raw ability means nothing--and that was precisely what the Dominant Diva had lacked tonight: focus. Melina might have been physically present in the match, but her mind had been a million miles away. Every move she had hit, every punch, every kick...it had seemed distracted, as though out of pure instinct rather than any sort of thought process. There had been emotion in her, sure; anger, most definitely. He had seen it in the wild forearms that she threw, had heard it in the primal screams that ripped out of her throat every time Mickie got a shoulder up.
But it was emotion without purpose; a blank formless rage without a target. She had let it consume her...and in the end, it had been her downfall. When she had gotten to her feet, dazed and reeling after that hurricarana takedown, she had practically walked into Mickie's devastating Tornado DDT finisher. The rest, as they say, had been academic: Mickie had walked away with the victory and a spot in the Women's Championship match...while Melina had been left to glare and fume on the mat.
Part of Jeff--the sensible part, the facet of him that still had some measure of self-control--knew that he shouldn't feel sorry for her; that if anyone deserved his sympathy, it was Maria in her upcoming bout against Lita next week. But the Charismatic Enigma couldn't help himself. He knew what it was like to relinquish himself to the feeling, to push all reason aside and give himself over totally to emotion--even if it meant crashing and burning in the end.
Plus, he had a pretty good idea what could have transpired to make the Dominant Diva so upset--what individual could have enraged her to the point that everything, including a shot at the Women's title, was cast into insignificance.
Johnny Nitro...
High-pitched giggles erupted from nearby, jolting the Rainbow-Haired Warrior back to the present. Straightening up and peering around the corner, he saw the recently victorious Mickie James (now one-half of the Women's Championship match at Cyber Sunday) being congratulated by several of her fellow Divas, his adorable Maria one of them.
As they stood there, lost in their exchange of female camaraderie, a new figure emerged from the gloomy interior of the gorilla area, pushing past them, bumping into Mickie almost hard enough to knock her over. The brunette stumbled, glaring with annoyance at the outsider. "Hey, watch it, you--" Her voice trailed off into silence, her lips curving up in a smug smile when she realized that it was none other than her recently defeated opponent.
Jeff felt his breath catch in his throat as Melina strode toward him. She hadn't seen him; she was staring straight ahead, her face full of tightly controlled fury, her eyes dark smoldering holes in her face. As she neared the spot where the younger Hardy brother stood, Mickie spoke again, her alto voice carrying over the noise from the gorilla position. "Hey, Melina! Great match out there!" From the way she said it, however, it was clearly not a compliment.
The other Divas burst into a fit of muffled laughter, but the former Women's Champion wasn't finished. Shrugging, she added in a biting tone: "Guess I was right about you after all."
At this, the paparazzi princess ground to a halt, her whole body tensing. Her back was to the other Divas; only Jeff saw her features twitch as she struggled to keep her emotionless mask in place. Unfortunately, her forced stoicism didn't quite reach her eyes--the younger Hardy brother could see the misery pouring out of them in nearly palpable waves. Melina pressed her lips together until they were nothing more than a thin white line cutting across her face. With a low choked sound, she staggered forward again, turning right and disappearing from the sight of her fellow Divas--but not from Jeff's.
He heard laughter once again, but there was nothing friendly about it this time--this giggles were filled with bright malicious glee, like a high-school clique who has just ostracized the unpopular girl.
If it had been two months ago, or hell, even a month ago, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior wouldn't have cared--if anything, he might even have joined in. But now, the sounds of their vicious amusement filled him with nothing except annoyance...and some small measure of pity--and he didn't have to peek around the corner to know that his sweet little Maria was joining in.
Jeff glanced back at the departing figure of Melina. The paparazzi princess was hunched over, hugging herself with both arms. Her shoulders shot up once, twice, the movement sharp and staccato, as though she was trying to choke back her tears. Groping blindly in front of her, she reached out and grabbed hold of the door directly in front of her, pushing it open a crack and slipping through the small opening into the space beyond. A small brown-and-white sign next to it read simply: "STAIRWELL".
Without thinking, the younger Hardy brother stepped forward, crossing the intersecting corridor and moving toward the set of doors. Putting his hand on the handle, he hesitated, leaning forward slightly and pressing his ear against the door.
For a moment, he heard nothing; only the dull roar of cheering fans and the low drone of the heating system. But then, he caught a sharp intake of breath...followed by the soft sound of weeping.
Pushing open the door, the Charismatic Enigma slid into the dimly lit stairwell. Melina was sitting on the top step, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. At the sound of the hinges creaking, she looked up, a surprised gasp escaping her throat, swiping hastily at the tear-stains marring her cheeks. "What do you..." There was disdain in her voice, but it was already draining away. "What do you want?"
For a second, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was struck by the most acute sense of deja vu--he was no longer here, but in that nightclub in Toronto, watching as the neon lights from the dance floor played across Melina's face. She had been crying then, too. Right now, the Dominant Diva might not be drunk...but that didn't make her any less miserable.
Without speaking, Jeff walked over, easing his body down next to her on the step. Struggling off his Intercontinental Championship, he laid it on the ground behind him. Turning back toward Melina, he wrapped his arm gently around her shoulders, pulling her to him.
The paparazzi princess stiffened at his touch, but after a moment or two, her body gradually relaxed, and she twisted around, clinging to him, pressing her face against his chest. Her tears, so quiet and constrained before, now burst out of her in loud hoarse sobs. The sound was muffled, but Jeff could feel her hot pants of breath through the fabric of his shirt. He slid his hand upward to stroke her hair. Leaning down a little, he placed a kiss on the top of her head.
For several long moments, the two of them sat there, holding onto one another. Gradually, Jeff felt Melina's sob slow to sniffles, then to big gulps of breath. Her hands slowly relaxed their hold on his shirt, and Jeff felt the heat of her palms resting on his chest.
The younger Hardy brother felt his heart race. A minute ago, he had been comforting her--but now, all of a sudden, the mood had shifted, subtly transforming into something deeper, more intimate. Melina moved a little closer, snuggling against him, and Jeff had to bite back a groan of need as he felt the supple curves of her body press against him.
Her hands were moving upward now, touching his neck, his face...and the moment her fingers touched his skin, it was as though someone had doused him with gasoline and lit a match. He was burning up, as though her touch was scorching him to the core. His hands were on her hair; he slid them to her face, his fingertips grazing her cheek.
At his touch, the Dominant Diva lifted her head, her dark eyes locking onto his. Just like at the club, they were filled with a calm lucidity, a silent awareness, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. Jeff put his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up a little further. He leaned toward her, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping her as she breathlessly awaited the contact...
The kiss was brief, a mere touching of lips, and the two of them pulled apart almost immediately, staring at each other with a kind of bewildered wonder. But gradually, as though drawn by magnetic force, they came back together in another kiss. This one was nothing like the first--it was hard, raw, as though the force of their unspoken emotions was being transmitted through this physical contact.
Jeff gripped the back of Melina's head, his lips devouring hers. With a low growl, he pulled her onto his lap, and she let him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Jeff entwined his fingers in her silken tresses, grabbing a handful of hair and gently tugging her head back. He moved his mouth down to her neck, laying a trail of kisses along the line of her throat.
Melina moaned, clinging to him even tighter. Jeff took hold of one of her shoulder straps, peeling it back and touching his tongue to the patch of bare skin beneath it. His self-control had left him--he no longer cared that he was in a stairwell, or that his girlfriend was only a short distance away outside.
All he cared about was that Melina was in his arms, that he was kissing her--and she was kissing him back.
With a gasp, the paparazzi princess abruptly pulled away, vaulting off his lap. "No! I can't! I can't--" She stood, walking a few steps to the adjacent wall, leaning against its textured surface. Her head was bowed; it was clear that she was trying to catch her breath. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper; any louder and it might break. "I can't...do this. If Johnny finds out--"
Jeff blinked, his mouth moving as he struggled to find the words. He tried to rise, but found that he couldn't--their mini make-out session had left him in a fairly....aroused....state. "You gotta be kidding me," the Charismatic Enigma muttered, the remark directed just as much to himself as to her. He settled for twisting his upper body around, staring at the Dominant Diva in disbelief. "So what? Who cares if he finds out?" Jeff gestured with one hand as he talked. "If that asshole really cared about you in the first place, he wouldn't be cheating on you!"
"You don't understand!" Melina's voice rose in volume, the sound of it almost frantic. Jeff immediately froze--he had never heard the paparazzi princess this panicked before. The Dominant Diva whirled around, fixing her dark eyes on the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "If Johnny dumps me...then I go back to being just another Diva on the roster--just another bimbo in a short skirt." She shook her head vehemently. "I can't do that; I won't go back to that! I'm not starting at the bottom all over again!"
"So...what?" the younger Hardy brother shot back. He couldn't believe that he was hearing this. "You're just going to stay there and take it? You're gonna let him treat you like crap just so you won't disappear?" Jeff slowly shook his head, unable to keep contempt from creeping into his voice. "That's pathetic, princess, even for you."
Melina flinched a little at the insult. Her eyes narrowed, her beautiful face already closing down, forming an impenetrable wall between him and her true feelings. When she spoke, there was a note of genuine disdain in her voice. "I don't expect you to understand," she snapped.
Jeff didn't say anything; only stared steadily back at her. Melina's cold expression eventually faltered and she quickly looked away, drawing in a shaky breath. "Besides..." Her tone was soft, hesitant. "Believe it or not...I love him--"
"No, you don't," Despite his discomfort, Jeff rose to his feet, moving over to where the paparazzi princess stood. He leaned down over her, his mouth next to her ear. "You don't love him, princess--you're just too scared of living without him."
"How dare you!" Melina spun back around, glaring up at the Charismatic Enigma. Her expression was furious, but there was a kind of dawning realization on her face, as though Jeff had just voiced something she had never allowed herself to believe until now. She moved closer, expecting him to step back, but the younger Hardy brother just stood there, allowing her body to bump against his. Melina gasped a little at the contact, but managed to maintain her composure. She leaned up, her face only inches from his. "What the hell do you know about me, anyway?"
"I know that you deserve better than him!" Jeff retorted, his Southern drawl growing thicker with emotion. Melina froze, her eyes wide and stunned. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior went on. "Your boyfriend...is a lying sack of shit--and we both know it. You deserve a lot better than that."
"Who, then?" Melina whispered. "You?" She tilted her chin up, the faintest smile of malicious amusement touching her face. "You and me--oh, that's real funny. That's priceless." She laughed, but it was an empty hollow sound, with no real conviction behind it.
Jeff waited until she was finished, a tiny muscle near his jaw throbbing as he clenched his teeth. When he spoke, his voice was low, and barely controlled. "You're right, princess--it is funny. You and me--we're nothing alike. Hell, we don't even like each other." He paused, watching as the Dominant Diva's smile slowly faded before continuing. "But there is something between us--something that neither of us can understand...or ignore. I feel it...and so do you."
He reached up tentatively, taking Melina's face in his hands, wiping away the last of her tears. "Listen to me," the younger Hardy brother murmured, his tone almost pleading. "You don't need him."
For a moment or two, Melina stared back at him without speaking. Then, with a soft sigh of regret, she closed her eyes. Reaching up, she took hold of his hands, gently but deliberately pulling them away from her face. "Yes...I do." the paparazzi princess whispered. She lifted her lids, meeting Jeff's emerald irises one last time. "Without Johnny--I'm nothing." She swallowed hard. "Without him...I'm alone."
The Dominant Diva looked away, touching the corners of her eyes with her fingers to catch any unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Jeff," Just hearing her say his name, without sarcasm or scorn--the Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt his heart crack and shatter within his chest. Melina swallowed again; she was clearly struggling to hold back her tears. "I'm sorry..."
Pulling away from him, she brushed past, out of his line of sight. Jeff let her go, not even turning around as she pulled the door open. It wasn't until he heard the tumbler click back into place that the Charismatic Enigma sagged, falling to his knees. He bent down over the floor, struggling to catch his breath. His voice was a barely audible murmur. "You're not alone..."
Jeff swallowed, closing his eyes. He pressed his hands to his face, breathing in the last of Melina's scent that still lingered on his palms.
"You've got me..."