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Post by jason andrew irving on Jul 10, 2009 0:23:06 GMT -5
 He kept his gaze away from her when she said he wasn’t really a bastard, giving a little shrug of his shoulders. After she had said it, the words had just seemed to be permanently in his mind and the more he turned them over, the more he began to believe it. If he really wasn’t, then why did he even consider slipping Dahlia’s shirt over her head? Sighing, he stepped out of the car, relieved the be out of the leather-lined furnace, the sharp words still echoing through his head. Though he never wanted to admit it, he was definitely sensitive and any sort of verbal attacks or criticism tended to bother him more than it really should.
Falling into step beside her, he couldn’t help but wonder how well this was going to work out. Of course he was more than willing to work through anything for her, it was himself that he was worried about for once. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to let his mistake go. Yes, her forgiveness was something he hadn’t exactly expected and it was nice to have, but it wasn’t something he felt like he deserved. He was still beating himself up over it and he knew that was something he was going to have to put behind him if they wanted this to work and he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to do that. Oh, it wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure, but if she could forgive him for ripping her heart out, maybe he could find it in him somewhere to forgive himself. Of course, the question on why Dahlia had even been in his bed to start with was probably still strong on Ana’s mind, though that was easy enough to explain. It had been quite innocent to start with, just one friend helping another. And then she had felt the need to tell him she still loved him and instead of just voicing it, she had kissed him. No, he had told himself he wasn’t going to blame any of it on Day. He could have easily pulled away; kissing her back was something he had chosen to do, just like he had chosen to pull her shirt off and drop her bra to the floor beside it. He didn’t want any memories of that to flood back at any certain time and cause more problems than they already had, that was for sure.
His hand flinched ever so slightly at first as he felt her fingers lace through his before he relaxed, looking from their hands up to her face, a small smile quite similar to hers on his face. Lately, he had been incredibly anti-touch, anti-anything, really. For the past two months he seemed to have a solid, iron box around his heart, not wanting to let anything in or out. He had trapped all of his hurt in and locked out any sense of anyone’s kindness towards him. Maybe that’s why he had really let all of this chew him up, like Dozer and Ana’s shoes; he hadn’t let it out. He had tried, yes, but not in the right way. The alcohol didn’t flood it out, it only brought him down more. It was a true, true depressant for him, though he never remembered how low he had actually sunk in his alcohol-induced stupors. The times where he had believed everyone would be better off if he had been killed in the wreck only existed behind a heavy curtain of whiskey in his mind.
It was amazing how her fingers intertwined through his made him feel so much better. No, he was far from perfect, but it was like something had fallen back into place. He almost wanted to pull her towards him and just curl up on the couch like they had done many times at his place, but that would come in time. Right now, they had to start over with a clear slate and take things slow, maybe even slower than the had the first time through. It would be nice to just sweep her off of her feet and take her into her bed, but that would definitely have to wait. He wasn’t ready for that yet. That was a ways off, even if she decided she wanted to move back in with him and even that didn’t seem like a good idea until they were sure they could work out all of their problems. Looking at her face, his eyes tracing over every little detail that he had missed so much in the last two months, wondering why she had a thoughtful look on her face. Nodding his head at her words, he could tell there was something more coming as she shrugged slightly. A small smile played across his face, one that was completely different than the other ones he had lately. This smile actually reached his eyes and held a little bit of hope in it, though he told himself to take it easy. There was a lot they had to work out; there was no guarantee it would work no matter how badly he wanted it to. He just didn’t want to set himself up for another heartbreak. Taking a slow breath, he glanced down at his feet, shaking his head when she said she needed him, more to himself than to her. “Ana, I don‘t want you to have any regrets. Same ones your mom had or not.” Biting his lip, he tried to figure out how to word what he was thinking. “And, well, there‘s a difference between needing and wanting,” he sighed, not sure if what he was saying was coming out the way he wanted it to. He didn’t want her to think he was doubting her, but he just wanted to make sure he understood clearly. “Are you sure you just weren’t…weren’t missing what we were?” That seemed to work, though he still wasn’t sure it was what he was really thinking.
Glancing up at her, there was finally a real spark of life, of hope in his eyes as he squeezed her hand, debating whether or not to scoot closer to her. “Yes,” he said quietly, a smile spreading across his face. Looking down at his knees, he sighed slightly, so happy that they might be able to work things out. “Ana, I‘m so sorry I messed things up before,” he started, shaking his head to tell her to let him finish. “I still can’t figure out why I did that, all I knew is that the entire time I was reasoning with myself, saying ‘oh, we’re on a break, this isn’t a big deal.’” Sighing again, he looked over at the black brace on his wrist, squeezing that hand closed and open slowly as he continued. “And I know you‘ve forgiven me, but I…I just can‘t seem to…to forgive myself,” he finally finished quietly, hoping he didn’t seem overly dramatic. He could talk about so much more, about how the hurt look on her face had been there, clear as day in his mind for the past two months or how he would hear her frustrated screech in his sleep, but that seemed like too much. Without drawing it out too much, he managed to sum up why he still hated himself, one of the many reasons it hurt to look at her when they had actually seen each other in those two months.
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jul 10, 2009 23:48:24 GMT -5
 Her face lit up as his did not only because she was happy for a change but because she loved that smile. Even though they'd been somewhat social lately she hadn't really seen him smile like that since the day she'd made the mistake of calling a break with him. But it was her smile, she knew that, and that's why she hadn't seen it in so long. He didn't look at anyone else quite like that, even the pictures she'd seen where he was smiling at his ex-girlfriend, she'd clearly had her own smile, but it wasn't the same one he looked at her with. The hopeful glint in his eye seemed to disappear after a moment causing hers to fade as well as she watched his intelligent mind work, a little sigh escaping her when he started talking, not even knowing what he was about to say. Listening to him, her head shook a bit, knowing just the set of regrets he was talking about, the ones that could start to set in once a few years had passed and they were married and while she could understand his concern she also didn't really see it happening. Oh sure, maybe when they were arguing over something she might start inwardly yelling at herself for ever getting back together with him, but really she knew she'd rather be feuding with him than not having anyone to huff at and play the silence game with. She let him finish before she said anything, knowing that getting out what they were feeling was important right now. "I started wanting you the moment I watched you trip over your own two feet in that bookstore," she told him with a little laugh, a teasing glint in her eyes, "I didn't start needing you until much, much later, around the time I realized there was a very real possibility I was going to lose you," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. It had been hard to watch him go through surgery twice, to see his smashed up car and know that he could have so easily been killed. Like he liked to point out, she knew he would die, but she was hoping that was farther off in the future, not tomorrow with so much left unsaid and unfinished between them.
She shrugged when she thought about the second thing he'd said glancing down and staring at his thigh before glancing back up, "And yes, I did miss that. I do miss that. But I know my life isn't this romance novel where we kiss and make up just like that and everything is all sunny and perfect and we go have raucous sex all night long." She snorted at the thought, thinking how nice it would be if things were like that and hating the way writers were capable of making these wonderful romance tales so simple and until one ran into their own troubles they didn't realize just how unrealistic those stories were. She let out a little sigh before she found the more simplistic way to say what she meant, "So yes, I know what I'm getting myself into, Jason, but to me, you're worth the effort." She hoped she hadn't completely missed his meaning, but all the same letting him know she was prepared to fix their relationship was something she'd needed to do.
The serious look left her face when she asked him if he was ready, replaced by a little smile that gradually grew bigger. It was a nice feeling to have something to look forward to again, it was nice to be able to dream just a bit. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, but it was nice to not have to picture herself as a frazzled, lonely, forty year old woman trying to deal with the teenage kids she'd conceived thanks only to modern science without any help at all. A real look of love filled her eyes when he quietly told her yes, her body moving closer to his so they were actually touching, her head slowly coming to rest against his shoulder, murmuring, "Good," more to herself than to him. She felt his almost content sigh before he said her name and she pulled her head away to look at him, her eyes on his face. Her lips parted a bit, about to tell him to quit it with the apologies, before carefully meeting each other again when he shook his head asking her not to interrupt. A few unsavory images crossed through her mind, the sound of his moan echoed in her ears before she could stop them and she shut her eyes, pressing them away, hurting for both herself and even for him. It would be hard to forgive one's self for that kind of thing, she was sure. Glancing away and staring at a magazine on the coffee table she remembered how awful she'd felt when she'd learned that he'd been with one woman and she'd slept with more men than she could remember. She'd felt like a dirty whore and had almost called things off until she'd realized that, at least to him, that wasn't what she was and slowly her opinion of herself had begun to change and she'd started to accept that the past was the past and she couldn't change that. No, it was not the same, but there was something about love that could heal people. Turning her bright blue eyes back onto him she stared into his dark eyes, "You'll start to see yourself the way I see you, in time," she whispered, running her thumb gently over his hand with a little smile. This time she wasn't going to lose patience if it took a year or even longer to come to terms with it, like she had with the wreck. She had learned from that mistake, that trying to run from what made her uncomfortable wasn't really the right thing to do by him, even if she'd convinced herself at the time that it was. No, this time she was by his side if it took weeks, months, or even years to mend these pieces of their love back into something beautiful.
WORDS; 1043
WEARING; this
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