|How Do You Fix a Problem?
Author: i-nv-u50 PM
SLASH Revflective split POV between Skylar and Mikah - the last part of their trilogy. So Mikah's a little angry, and Skylar's determined to make it better... Hopefully, he succeeds. Enjoy :DRated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 1,631 - Reviews: 9 - Published: 07-14-03 - id: 1356295
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
AN: Last part of Skylar and Mikah's story. I started writing this really depressed, but then it suddenly got quite funny, so if it changes the atmosphere too much, I apologise, and tell me so I can rewrite it if you want. This first part is the first letter mikah got from skylar, seeing as how I'm not planning to write any of the actual letters in the main story (probably just snippets, but we'll see…) Next up is Sully's and Kael's story, and that might be a tiny bit sadder, but it will still end mostly happy ^^ I hope you enjoy this one, and expect the other one soon – along with the next chapter to flawless. That said, read, enjoy, and please review!! ^^
I've never done this before, so I suppose you should feel flattered. More likely freaked out, but it's always good to feel flattered, especially when you know you're making somebody do something that he hasn't ever done before.
So saying, this is the first love letter I've ever written. You don't seem like the type to prefer sappy, heartfelt sentiments, so I won't give you those, although I can assure you that this is absolutely genuine.
Don't stop reading this now, and please don't be suspicious either. It's all true, I say, and I know it to be a fact.
'What?' you ask. I guess I'd better start at the beginning.
You don't know me. You will one day, but right now, at the point of me writing this letter, you don't know my identity – and if I'm correct, it's going to drive you mad. I apologise in advance for this, as it was the only way I could think of to catch and hold your interest. And despite how crazy you might think I am, I want your interest, and I want it to be sincere. No lies between us, right?
I'm a boy. Another guy, just like you. Obviously, of course, seeing as this is an all boys school, but I just thought I should clear that up before we get any deeper. And before you ask, yes, I want to get deeper.
I want to know you, Mikah, I want to see who you are, and I want you to know me for who I am.
I realize this has probably been quite a shock, so I'm going to leave it off there. For lack of a better code name idea, I'm not going to sign it off either. I will be writing again soon, and I hope you read that one.
One thing is certain, Mikah. This is not a joke. This is about as serious as I've ever been in my entire life, and I hope you aren't scared.
Don't be scared, Mikah. Not of me.
Never of me.
It was him. I didn't think he'd have the gall to show up, especially after what he had done, but as much as I hate to say it, there was a part of me that was pleased.
That wanted him there. I ignored it anyway and tried to push him out again, to no avail. He seemed determined to enter.
If he was that determined, I could only let him. It didn't mean that I'd actually listen to him when he started talking.
But I did.
Damnit. People keep saying love makes you stronger, gives you more power to accept things that wouldn't have seemed possible before you fell.
It makes you hurt more. That one person will have power over you that is almost unimaginable, in the ways it makes you weaker. You want to please them. It stings when you know you can't, it gives you an undefinable ache, but you know it's there. Words cut deeper, and there's no way to heal.
He had to show up and ruin it.
He had to go and prove my father right for once in his life.
Who knew? One of Dad's previously meaningless lectures suddenly took on meaning, and it is all his fault.
It makes you weaker. Love makes you weaker, and when before, I didn't know what to do; now I do.
He'd better talk fast because if he doesn't finish in five minutes, I'm kicking him out.
To hell with how much it hurts – I can handle it.
He didn't listen to me. His eyes were a cool green, blatantly wondering why I was wasting his time. It was more than a little discouraging, but I kept talking. I told him everything.
Well… Mostly everything. I didn't mention the obvious things, like that he was mine. It was so obvious to me… Surely I can't be the only one who sees it?
But it began to dawn on me that I wasn't getting through. His eyes kept flickering to focus somewhere behind me, and even though I didn't stop talking, I saw him begin counting down.
God, he was timing me. That threw me off further, and before I could even begin to wonder how much time I had left, my words faltered off and he turned to look directly at me.
His eyes still cut into me. They still pierced so deep, it was easy to see how unfathomable they really were. How easily they could see into me.
He told me to leave. Calmly, his voice cool and slightly scornful, his entire expression aloof. It made me wonder if it hurt him too.
And, for perhaps the first time since I had actually started writing those damn letters, I began to doubt myself. Oh sure, I'd had split seconds of wondering if I was doing the right thing, coming over here, writing those letters, making him love me…
But never had I doubted like this.
What if he really didn't love me anymore? If he really didn't care?
He repeated his deceptively polite request for me to get out, and I had already turned around to leave when I realised that his voice had wavered, ever so slightly on the 'Get out.'
Uh oh. I mean, oops? I think he heard that.
God knows I didn't mean for my voice to waver, did not plan it at all, but it happened, and I began to understand that it was probably a mistake to make him leave.
Actually, I had begun to wonder about the possibility sometime during his brief silence, when his eyes had died somewhat and I had to make myself repeat my command.
It was his eyes that made my voice quiver…
And when he turned around to face me again, I couldn't make myself tell him to get out again. It was startlingly unbelievable, the expression on his face.
It confused me.
Yes, I am confused very easily by such things, but do not think at all that it is any fun for me. I wished I knew what to do, but apparently I didn't need to know, because he knew what to do for me.
He asked me if I was all right.
All right. Me. Sure, I'm just fine.
It's just that I don't think I can cope with you leaving after all.
No, I didn't say that.
But he must have guessed it.
He must have, because the next second he was coming closer still, and I was feeling remarkably like that dear old deer in the headlights. Heaven knows his eyes resembled headlights, they were as golden as I had ever seen them before, and they shined brilliantly.
I must have choked out something, because the next minute he was closer than ever, and grinning like Sylvester after said cat had just devoured Tweety…
No doubt about it at all, he's absolutely hooked on me.
And I'm glad. He managed to choke out a strangled question on what I thought I was doing, typical stuff, you know, and that was all the hints I needed.
After that, it was only a simple matter of backing him against a wall and trapping him there. All right, so he didn't look to pleased to be there at first, but after he got used to it, I daresay he had quite a bit of fun there with me.
It certainly had more eagerness than most of the first kisses I've had with other girls.
And you know something, I'm sure I was his first kiss overall. And that, if you can believe me, just made it better.
Not that it wasn't anything I'd want to improve on anyway – as far as I'm concerned, it was perfect.
And when we pulled slightly away from each other, with my hands still resting on his hips and his hands curled in my hair, his eyes said that he agreed.
It's not absolutely perfect between us just yet… And it probably won't be once his father finds out… but for now, I know it's okay. We've made the first step, and he seems to be perfectly agreeable to the idea.
Like I said, his eyes said it all.
He said I was his.
I don't mind.
But he is mine as well.
And he agreed.