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Fragile
Him
waiting
Luci takes another sip of her beer, staring lifelessly ahead of her — brown eyes flashing, dark hair falling gently in front of her face. Within the first few minutes of her beers, she would do that — sometimes she squints, sometimes she clutches her head, digs the palms of her hands under her eyes, and silently screams, until even a small hiss would come out. And sometimes, it doesn’t happen.
Of course, I didn’t know all happened to her, the young girl who had taken haven to this bar of neglected souls. Beyond what I knew, it broke her, badly. And when she comes, it starts the same. She walks in, sits in her spot at the very end of the bar, and flicks her wrist gently. The bar tender sends a beer down to her, and at the end of her rounds, she non-too-discreetly hands him the envelope for with her payment.
The jukebox in the corner clicks on to Remember When by Alan Jackson, and she takes a breath — places her head against the smooth wood. It hits a sore spot — everyone knew that was the song that he dedicated to her…the song he proposed to her on…the song he died on. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but the way he died—nobly, for her cause. Protecting her from…a certain death.
She hums to the music, gets up, clutching the beer tightly to her chest, and dances gracefully in a circle — in a different time. Dancing with him, again. I watch her body, her gently sway to the music, the erotic rolling of her hips, hair swinging behind her. The sad, distant smile on her face as she remembers when.
I take another swing of my beer, slam it down, turning fully in my seat so I can watch her. And know that she’ll never been mine. Not like she was his, at least. I approach her, placing my hands firmly on her hips, and stepping into her dance — stepping into his place. I know she knows who I am; she feels comfortable and safe in my arms — pressing gently, sensuously against me, eyes closed.
“Oh, Edward, I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers sadly, and it breaks my heart to hear her sound so soft and broken. That’s not entirely right, I scold myself, it’s because…I love her, and while she’s in my arms, she said his name.
I choke on my words. “ I’ve missed you too, Lucizle.”
She gives a gentle laugh. It’s light, but still sad, a faint echo of the rich sound that used to roll off her tongue. “Oh, always so polite. You know I like Luci better.”
“I know,” I whisper, clutching her tighter to me, burying my face in her neck, and she lets me. Something she would have never let me do, then. “I…I just like to call you your name. It’s beautiful, like you.”
She pulls back to look me in my face. She drops the illusion of Edward for a moment, and I see the raw need, and vulnerability in her starving eyes, before she carefully composes herself again. “Yes,” her fingers lightly trace over my eyebrows, my cheek. Faint, ghostly touch — the feel of her cool fingertips against my hot skin. She closes her eyes again. “Yes, Edward,”— and I know she’s trying hard to bring back her thoughts — “you always said I was…I never believed you. Maybe I do now…maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Lips close to my ear, hot breath drawing on my neck. “Yes.”
The song ends, and so does our dance — at least that’s what I tell myself. That’s what she expects, but I keep her close to me. I hesitate…for so long now; I’ve watched her grieve over her ex-lover. Now, I want to do something about it. “Luci,” I whisper in her ear gently, teeth lightly playing with her earlobe, “let’s stop pretending we’re drunk…let me show you I can heal you.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and my heart drops into my stomach. Did I push too far? She shakes her head, and laughs, but it’s bitter. “No, no one can, darling. But thank you for caring enough to…suggest it.”
I swallow thickly. So that was it then? My big finish, our future. Or what could possibly be of it? Not enough? Never enough. “But, Luci…” I stop at the look of her eyes. They are dark, and cloudy. She must think I am pathetic. “I can heal you, give me the chance.”
She shakes her head, and sits back down. I sit next to her. My large, veined, brown hand covers her cool, dry one. They are porcelain and delicate; I grasp it adroitly. She keeps her hair down, chocolate brown hiding her unfocused eyes from view, but her nose and mouth are in plain view. Her nostrils flare, and her bottom lip quivers. It’s my chance — I’ve gotten through to her.
“I will heal you, I will.” I vow, fingers brushing back her hair. Brushing it back until I could tuck the long, silky strains behind her ear and see her profile. “You just have to give me permission. A chance.”
“For what?” I can see that she is crying… “What will you heal me from? My…disillusionment against what? I miss him…I loved him…and you killed him. A chance — for what? A chance — like you gave him?”
My eyes widen. She turns her dark face to me, and it spears me to see the fear, pain, hate in her eyes. How did she know? “I…Luci, I didn’t. I swear.”
“His blood may not be on your hands, but you are just as responsible as your brothers.” She hisses, slamming her drink down, and fishing in her pocket for the envelope. She slides it across the table, and snatches her coat from its place. “Good-bye.”
Follow after her, the voice in the back of my head whispers. Can I really go after her? I’ve already failed. I hurry over to my stuff, slap a bill on the table, and rush after her. By the time I catch up with her, she’s home and livelier than I’ve ever seen. She’s pissed.
“Lucizle, please, listen. You and I were best friends during the Edward Period…then, it all changed when he turned you away from me — he took you from me!”
“So you took him from me? My husband — the father of my child?”
I am stunned — as if she flat out punched me. Shock registers slowly, and I numb ask the question I want to ask. “You’re pregnant?”
“Was.” She whispers sadly, and she places a hand on her stomach. “When he was killed, shortly after, I miscarried. Everything I had left of him — just a memory.”
I watch her reaction. I didn’t know she was married to him — pregnant by him. Even if I did, it wouldn’t have matter; I would still pursue her. (And this shows how disgusting I am?) Regardless, of Edward’s over-protectiveness, or the fact that she had a duty to go back to him every night, be held in his arms, sleep in the bed with him. All that while, I would pretend to myself that it was me that she pretended to be married to — love unconditionally. Delusional, denial, obsession, call it what you will.
“Luci, look. You have to stop living in the past — as far as I know, Edward would never condone your behavior.” I reach out and pull her close to me. “I do not condone your behavior. Just give me a chance — I want you make you happy. I’ve always wanted for you to be happy, even at the price of my pain.”
She gasps thickly. “Your pain? What pains have you endure for me?”
“What pain have I not endured?” I growl out slowly, watching her reaction as I close the eluding space of our bodies. She feels the charge it gives off, and she licks her lips; a characteristic I hadn’t seen in so long. Is she returning to me? “I had done everything I can do without being this close to you — I’ve respected your decisions purely because I started to delude myself that eventually you’ll realize on your own that you still have someone who loves you. Who always has, and never stopped, even through you chose someone me; I’ve still let you hold onto my heart. Has it helped at all? Has all the passion that I contain in me helped you at all?”
On the brims of her eyelashes, the tears start, rolling down her lovely face. I did not mean to make her cry — I just wanted her to see what all I’ve done for her. Her lips quiver, and she closes her eyes, pushing closer to me, but says nothing further. I am in shock, and for a moment, I don’t react — this is the moment where she hesitates, and starts to withdrawal again.
“No!” I start, drawing her closer to me, until I’m practically crushing her to me. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was shocked, is all.” My voice is rough with emotions; so much I close my eyes as well, enjoying the feel of her against me. “I thought you could not feel it at all — the heat stares; my voice softly singing you his song, just because you love it; my gently tucking the hair behind your ears; the nights I’ve helped you to your apartment because you were too drunk to stand — and you never remember me in the morning.”
“Why? What do you have to gain from me? I’m broken. Do you want just a quick lay? I’m not even worth —”
I draw her back; slam my lips over hers. At first she doesn’t respond, probably because she is in shock, but I patiently wait, lips pressing against hers until I feel hers warm underneath my touch. It was small, but just enough, small messages sent to my brain for decoding. I’m still here; I feel you; please…take away the pain.
“Will you give me this chance?”
She slowly nods, licks her lips, and looks at me. Her eyes are moist with tears still unshed. “I won’t make you regret it.” I sweep her off her feet before she can speak and carry her into the apartment. I already had her key from one of those many nights that I stopped by to check on her in those first few months.
I carry her to the bed; lay her softly in the Goose down sheets. Her eyes meet mine, a silent plead enters her eyes and she tries to hide it from me. Be gentle, she’s warning, and my lips brush the flesh of her ear. “I promise I will,” I murmur hotly into her ear. Fingers lightly brushing her hair off her cheek, tears, until I can cup the soft, hot flesh; first time in a long time since I’ve felt her so warm and alive.
My lips lightly brush hers in a motion until I find her jaw line, taking in the delicate scent of her hair and skin — something sweet and spicy; apples and cinnamon. She smells delicious, warm coming off everywhere I touch. Fingers comb through her thick dark hair, feeling the pleasant heaviness of it. She makes a contented sound in the back of her throat, hands grasping lightly on my shoulders.
Slowly, I move my hands down her shirt until I grasp the hem, watching her as my palm brushes her hip, shirt leaving her body until I threw it in a pile on the side of the bed. She offers to resistance, her body liquid in my hands already. With one thumb, I pop open the button on her jeans, unzip it; the loud action a reminder of what is to come. I slid the material from her skin, shock at what I see.
Along her inner thighs were long healed cuts. Scars on her delicate skin — a silver sheen cast over. I bring my eyes to hers, tracing them with the tips of my fingers. She averts her eyes, and I take her chin between my fingers, turning them back to me. “Why?” I whisper along the scarred flesh, and she shivers, almost panics.
“I…I’m sorry,” her fingers bury themselves in my hair. “I needed to stop hurting. It helped for a little bit — a testament to the pain I’m surviving.”
I nod, my eyes taking in her body. “God, you’re beautiful Lucizle.” I undress her, fingers lingering longingly on her perfect skin. She watches hotly as I taste her core—she shivers beautifully against my tongue, breaths coming out shallow; hips lifting against the lingering strokes of tongue; soft moans escaping her swollen bubblegum lips; her fingers tightening in my hair. When she orgasm, she gives me a saccharine drink; each shudder of her muscles around my appendage hardens me painfully.
I position myself at her entrance, watching her eyes burning me. She nods, and arches herself, giving me acquiescence. I cradle her face in my hands, kissing her softly as I enter her; her cry muffled under my lips. She moves with me, until we meld together, gathering her as close as I can to me.
I can cry at the passionate weight of her in my arms, whispering my name over and over after we become one. Her mouth is on my neck, hot breath sends my pulse thudding under her lips; she smiles lazily, and I remember the woman whom I love before and after Edward.
“I love you, Lucizle,” I breathe into her hair, spooning her body to mine. “I love you tonight, as I shall love you in the morning.” I just hope you don’t leave me again, love.
She nods, as sighs into my skin, answering my unspoken concern. “I won’t leave you.”