Post by Jonathan Macnair on Oct 6, 2008 23:09:41 GMT -5
I thought I'd share something with you from the Avior Project, the series my friend and I are writing. This isn't going to be in it, but it's part of it. Anyway, I present to you ...
"Don't leave."
I very nearly jump three feet in the air at his voice and whirl around, eyes widen in surprise. He stands in the doorway, suddenly awkward. I can't remember a time when he's looked so awkward, but here he is. I feel awkward myself just looking at him. I think I should feel awkward though, because I know why he's here. I know he has something to say, something about us. I never expected it. Not once throughout our entire affair did I ever think he'd come to me like this. I forced myself to believe it was based solely on sex and loneliness. Perhaps he was thinking of power, but I could never see how sleeping with me would give him power.
He sighs almost gustily, coming in. I don't have to invite him. He just knows when he can come in and when he can't. He's come in when he can't before, but that's because he owns the place. Or so he thinks. I never know what to say to him on those times he comes in and I don't want him to, other than sputtering angry words neither of us can comprehend. Most times, he'd just kiss me or say my name. All my frustration melts away. We usually stick to a script, but tonight the script is dead.
Tonight the curtains close.
I breathe in and exhale slowly, unnerved by his steady eyes. "I told you already, I'm leaving." I say firmly.
"You don't have to." He replies, also firm. "You know you'd be happy here." With me, he wants to add, I know.
"I already said I'd go and if they were to kn --"
"Aren't you sick of it?" He interrupts, voice almost impassioned. "The secrecy?"
I gape like a goldfish in its bowl and he takes my hands.
"I know you think I'm lying to you. I understand why. You and I ... it shouldn't have happened, but it has and we're both happier for it, aren't we?"
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to say you'll stay here. With me."
He actually adds it that time and I'm left temporarily speechless. I watch him drop my hands and step forward, cupping my cheek as he comes in to kiss me. The kiss sends a sizzle spiraling down to the very tips of toes. I don't want it to end, but I know he'll pull away soon, that infinite smirk on his face. You'll stay, he will say, because you'd miss kissing me. I don't like the powers he holds over me like a trophy. I don't like very much about our affair, especially because I know how I feel about him.
"I can't say that." I tell him, hoping my voice won't waver. "You know I can't."
"Can't or won't?" His voice is challenging now. "You can do anything you set your mind to and you know it. No one will question it if you stay here. They're probably questioning why you're going."
"They know why I'm going."
"Oh? And why, pray tell, is that?"
"I love her."
He laughs loudly, ridiculing me. "You don't love her. You love the idea of her."
"No, I don't." I state softly. "I love her and that's final."
He grabs my wrist, pulling me close, eyes dark and dangerous. "You're lucky they'd miss you or else you wouldn't have a choice." he all but hisses.
I pull away, eyes flashing. "Well," I spit, "then it's good I'm going, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is." His voice is cold now, like ice.
"Then go."
He says nothing and turns on his heel, storming out. I almost cry out, trying to tell him not to leave, but swallow it down. It's better this way, I console myself, because he would just end up hurting me anyway. My inner voice tells me not to be stupid, that he loves me, but I drown it out with thoughts of what it'll be like, what I'll learn, who I'll meet. Most of all, I think about what it will be like to have no secrets, no masks, as I shut my suitcase.
It isn't as great of a relief as I thought it would be.
Curtain Call
"Don't leave."
I very nearly jump three feet in the air at his voice and whirl around, eyes widen in surprise. He stands in the doorway, suddenly awkward. I can't remember a time when he's looked so awkward, but here he is. I feel awkward myself just looking at him. I think I should feel awkward though, because I know why he's here. I know he has something to say, something about us. I never expected it. Not once throughout our entire affair did I ever think he'd come to me like this. I forced myself to believe it was based solely on sex and loneliness. Perhaps he was thinking of power, but I could never see how sleeping with me would give him power.
He sighs almost gustily, coming in. I don't have to invite him. He just knows when he can come in and when he can't. He's come in when he can't before, but that's because he owns the place. Or so he thinks. I never know what to say to him on those times he comes in and I don't want him to, other than sputtering angry words neither of us can comprehend. Most times, he'd just kiss me or say my name. All my frustration melts away. We usually stick to a script, but tonight the script is dead.
Tonight the curtains close.
I breathe in and exhale slowly, unnerved by his steady eyes. "I told you already, I'm leaving." I say firmly.
"You don't have to." He replies, also firm. "You know you'd be happy here." With me, he wants to add, I know.
"I already said I'd go and if they were to kn --"
"Aren't you sick of it?" He interrupts, voice almost impassioned. "The secrecy?"
I gape like a goldfish in its bowl and he takes my hands.
"I know you think I'm lying to you. I understand why. You and I ... it shouldn't have happened, but it has and we're both happier for it, aren't we?"
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to say you'll stay here. With me."
He actually adds it that time and I'm left temporarily speechless. I watch him drop my hands and step forward, cupping my cheek as he comes in to kiss me. The kiss sends a sizzle spiraling down to the very tips of toes. I don't want it to end, but I know he'll pull away soon, that infinite smirk on his face. You'll stay, he will say, because you'd miss kissing me. I don't like the powers he holds over me like a trophy. I don't like very much about our affair, especially because I know how I feel about him.
"I can't say that." I tell him, hoping my voice won't waver. "You know I can't."
"Can't or won't?" His voice is challenging now. "You can do anything you set your mind to and you know it. No one will question it if you stay here. They're probably questioning why you're going."
"They know why I'm going."
"Oh? And why, pray tell, is that?"
"I love her."
He laughs loudly, ridiculing me. "You don't love her. You love the idea of her."
"No, I don't." I state softly. "I love her and that's final."
He grabs my wrist, pulling me close, eyes dark and dangerous. "You're lucky they'd miss you or else you wouldn't have a choice." he all but hisses.
I pull away, eyes flashing. "Well," I spit, "then it's good I'm going, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is." His voice is cold now, like ice.
"Then go."
He says nothing and turns on his heel, storming out. I almost cry out, trying to tell him not to leave, but swallow it down. It's better this way, I console myself, because he would just end up hurting me anyway. My inner voice tells me not to be stupid, that he loves me, but I drown it out with thoughts of what it'll be like, what I'll learn, who I'll meet. Most of all, I think about what it will be like to have no secrets, no masks, as I shut my suitcase.
It isn't as great of a relief as I thought it would be.
