Post by Mandy on Apr 4, 2008 4:51:39 GMT -5
A/N: Literally written up in a half hour. I got the idea and went with it. I feel like this can apply to many situations, thusly why the lack of names. Specifically, this is kind of how I see my own situation ending. The lyrics at the end are from the song that inspired this. Comments are cookie dough 
She stood in the shadowy corridor, wringing her hands together like she was just about to commit some sort of heinous act for the first time. Her nervous energy was coursing through her veins, making itself very much known. She kept telling herself that this was nothing, that it wouldn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things, that she had the perfect situation, the perfect out.
She wasn’t even sure that he would show, that he got her message. “Meet me here on November 11th. Come alone.” Simple, effective, well, she hoped. She knew that he would know where to be, and no questions would be asked. She needed him to just shut up and let her get on with it, let her take control. This needed to happen, or else she would always regret it.
The footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, cutting through her every fiber of being. He hadn’t seen her yet. She had her last chance to get out before the sky fell around her. “Kill your doubt with the coldest of weapons; confidence,” sang through her head. This was her chance; this was her doing. If she didn’t want it, she would have never asked for this. He was hers right now.
His lean frame disrupted the harsh light from above. His face was unreadable. She breathed in deep to calm her nerves, kill her doubt, as she wished to put it. She willed herself to look him square in the eye, and not to fall off the edge and ruin the whole plan.
“What’s going on?” his voice cut the silence. No, no, no, no, no. He wasn’t supposed to speak. She needed to get this back to what she needed, what she wanted.
She willed herself forward, into his arms, and bowed his head to hers, capturing his lips with her own. She needed to let him know, make him understand what he had meant to her and what he had put her through. Her tongue collided with his as they fought for control, mirroring the battle that was within her. She could go out and get the world for herself, but, at the same time, he could give her it. She had made her decision long before any of this ever happened, but now she needed to confirm that it was the right one. She needed him to know that this was all his fault, but she didn’t blame him. She needed that one last disappointment to let her know that she was right.
The silence was deafening as they pulled apart, his taste still on her lips. She reveled in the dazed look on his face, the confusion and reality setting in bit by bit. She wanted to run, to scream, to punch him until he felt her pain and understood was he had done to her. He didn’t know he was hurting her, but she was dying every day. She was getting out. This was a kiss to send us off.
“What was that for?” she mustered up every excuse in the book but knew that only the truth would do it justice; force him to deal with it.
“Goodbye”
She stood in the shadowy corridor, wringing her hands together like she was just about to commit some sort of heinous act for the first time. Her nervous energy was coursing through her veins, making itself very much known. She kept telling herself that this was nothing, that it wouldn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things, that she had the perfect situation, the perfect out.
She wasn’t even sure that he would show, that he got her message. “Meet me here on November 11th. Come alone.” Simple, effective, well, she hoped. She knew that he would know where to be, and no questions would be asked. She needed him to just shut up and let her get on with it, let her take control. This needed to happen, or else she would always regret it.
The footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, cutting through her every fiber of being. He hadn’t seen her yet. She had her last chance to get out before the sky fell around her. “Kill your doubt with the coldest of weapons; confidence,” sang through her head. This was her chance; this was her doing. If she didn’t want it, she would have never asked for this. He was hers right now.
His lean frame disrupted the harsh light from above. His face was unreadable. She breathed in deep to calm her nerves, kill her doubt, as she wished to put it. She willed herself to look him square in the eye, and not to fall off the edge and ruin the whole plan.
“What’s going on?” his voice cut the silence. No, no, no, no, no. He wasn’t supposed to speak. She needed to get this back to what she needed, what she wanted.
She willed herself forward, into his arms, and bowed his head to hers, capturing his lips with her own. She needed to let him know, make him understand what he had meant to her and what he had put her through. Her tongue collided with his as they fought for control, mirroring the battle that was within her. She could go out and get the world for herself, but, at the same time, he could give her it. She had made her decision long before any of this ever happened, but now she needed to confirm that it was the right one. She needed him to know that this was all his fault, but she didn’t blame him. She needed that one last disappointment to let her know that she was right.
The silence was deafening as they pulled apart, his taste still on her lips. She reveled in the dazed look on his face, the confusion and reality setting in bit by bit. She wanted to run, to scream, to punch him until he felt her pain and understood was he had done to her. He didn’t know he was hurting her, but she was dying every day. She was getting out. This was a kiss to send us off.
“What was that for?” she mustered up every excuse in the book but knew that only the truth would do it justice; force him to deal with it.
“Goodbye”
