The Sound of Breaking Hearts
Oct. 17th, 2004 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
axesladefic I wrote yesterday
Disclaimer: Not mine. Yet another Mandy fic.
Title: The Sound of Breaking Hearts
Rating: R
Reasons: Sexual content
Genres: Angst/Romance
~I'm going crazy a little everyday, and everything I wanted is now driving me away. I woke this morning to the sound of breaking hearts. Mine is full of questions and it's tearing yours apart~Sheryl Crow 'Home'
It was raining when I woke up that morning. Well, it had been raining off and on all week, but the fact that it was raining the morning I realized what I'd feared for so many months as always stuck with me.
I can't remember why we were in the same bed. Maybe we'd been fighting and had finally been too exhausted to carry on and had just collapsed there for lack of a better place. Maybe we'd gotten stoned together. Or maybe, and this is the most optomistic and most outlandish reason, we'd been shagging. The reason doesn't matter much, just the fact that we were there after sleeping in different rooms with different people for so long.
I didn't realize he was there for the longest time. I was laying there, listening to the rain pattering on the roof and smoking, when I felt something twitch by my foot. I sat up and saw him, laying crosswise along the foot of the bed. His chest was bare and the bottom of a sheet was drawn across his waist. I got up slowly, drawing my fuzzy pink robe across my chest and walking around so I could look over his sickly yet beautiful body. After standing there for the longest time, I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in and brushed my fingers through his tangled blue hair, along his face, across his eyelids, beautifully high cheekbones and delicate full lips. When I moved down to his collarbone, I felt those familiar thin fingers wrap around my wrist. I lifted my eyes and saw his were open slightly. His lips tugged up in an attempt at a smile that failed,
"Mandy..."
"Hey."
He groaned and rolled onto his side. I knew from experience what that meant and pulled a garbage can over to the bed, thankful it wasn't me yet feeling pain when I saw him bringing up the apparently ample amount of liquor he'd consumed the previous night. When he finally lifted his head, he rolled onto his back and sighed. I set the garbage can down and knelt on the bed, smoothing his hair back from his cold sweat drenched forehead. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down, lifting up slightly and kissing me. For an instant I forgot about the bitter taste in his mouth, thinking that this was the first time he'd kissed me this passionatly in months. And it wasn't even that good of a kiss. Dry and bitter. But I forced myself to melt into it until the taste of bile and liquor made me pull away. He looked at me, gray eyes cold not with indifference, but loneliness. I smiled sadly,
"It's him, isn't it?"
He nodded, not that I'd needed the answer. Curt was the only reason he did anything he did now. Drinking, snorting coke, fucking random girls. All because of the gaping hole Curt had left in his heart.
Usually I would have got up and left, angry that even though Curt was long gone, he still prefered to hang onto his memory instead of my body. But at that moment, I thought maybe he deserved a little comfort.
"Can I help?", barely a whisper, but in the still room it sounded too loud.
He looked at me strangely, but after a moment nodded. I leaned down and kissed him, letting him slide his hands into my robe. I felt it fall away from my body to the floor, leaving me in a worn out tanktop and soiled black panties. He rolled me onto my back, kissing me all over with the wildness and desperation of a starving animal. I threaded my fingers through his hair, shoving his pants down and expecting him to pull off the rest of my clothes as well. But instead, he nipped at my breasts through the cotton, rubbing my chest and arms tenderly. Stunned that he wasn't just getting it over with, I started sliding my trembling fingers down his arms, relearning the contours of the once familiar flesh. I gripped his back tight as he finally slid the tiny straps down my arms and started kissing his way down to my waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of the flimsy material and pulling it down my legs.
It dawned on me, as he pushed up into my body, that I wasn't whimpering or gasping or groaning like I usually did when he touched me. He wasn't either. He was just moving robotically, thrusting in and out with a blank stare. I knew I must look the same, since I didn't feel my face tugging up in a smile or contorting in a strange blend of pain and pleasure.
I can't remember if either of us climaxed. Probably not. I remember him pulling out and rolling onto his side, playing idly with my hair and staring out into space. I knew then that it was over, that no matter what I did, how often we fucked or kissed or said sweet nothings, we could never go back to what we were long ago. I had to say it now, or I would just stay here living like a lost soul, drifitng through life with no purpose or feeling.
"I didn't feel anything", a dry, scared whisper.
He nodded tiredly,
"Me either."
He understood. I was glad, relieved I didn't have to explain what I did in the next seconds. He just watched as I went to the closet and got dressed, throwing a few things in a suitcase and walking to the door. When I turned around to look at him one last time, his eyes were sincerely sad,
"I'm sorry Mandy", his voice the loudest it had been since he woke up, almost normal.
I nodded,
"Yeah. Me too,", and then I walked out.
also working on GRR...well trying to. damn geocities.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Yet another Mandy fic.
Title: The Sound of Breaking Hearts
Rating: R
Reasons: Sexual content
Genres: Angst/Romance
~I'm going crazy a little everyday, and everything I wanted is now driving me away. I woke this morning to the sound of breaking hearts. Mine is full of questions and it's tearing yours apart~Sheryl Crow 'Home'
It was raining when I woke up that morning. Well, it had been raining off and on all week, but the fact that it was raining the morning I realized what I'd feared for so many months as always stuck with me.
I can't remember why we were in the same bed. Maybe we'd been fighting and had finally been too exhausted to carry on and had just collapsed there for lack of a better place. Maybe we'd gotten stoned together. Or maybe, and this is the most optomistic and most outlandish reason, we'd been shagging. The reason doesn't matter much, just the fact that we were there after sleeping in different rooms with different people for so long.
I didn't realize he was there for the longest time. I was laying there, listening to the rain pattering on the roof and smoking, when I felt something twitch by my foot. I sat up and saw him, laying crosswise along the foot of the bed. His chest was bare and the bottom of a sheet was drawn across his waist. I got up slowly, drawing my fuzzy pink robe across my chest and walking around so I could look over his sickly yet beautiful body. After standing there for the longest time, I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in and brushed my fingers through his tangled blue hair, along his face, across his eyelids, beautifully high cheekbones and delicate full lips. When I moved down to his collarbone, I felt those familiar thin fingers wrap around my wrist. I lifted my eyes and saw his were open slightly. His lips tugged up in an attempt at a smile that failed,
"Mandy..."
"Hey."
He groaned and rolled onto his side. I knew from experience what that meant and pulled a garbage can over to the bed, thankful it wasn't me yet feeling pain when I saw him bringing up the apparently ample amount of liquor he'd consumed the previous night. When he finally lifted his head, he rolled onto his back and sighed. I set the garbage can down and knelt on the bed, smoothing his hair back from his cold sweat drenched forehead. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down, lifting up slightly and kissing me. For an instant I forgot about the bitter taste in his mouth, thinking that this was the first time he'd kissed me this passionatly in months. And it wasn't even that good of a kiss. Dry and bitter. But I forced myself to melt into it until the taste of bile and liquor made me pull away. He looked at me, gray eyes cold not with indifference, but loneliness. I smiled sadly,
"It's him, isn't it?"
He nodded, not that I'd needed the answer. Curt was the only reason he did anything he did now. Drinking, snorting coke, fucking random girls. All because of the gaping hole Curt had left in his heart.
Usually I would have got up and left, angry that even though Curt was long gone, he still prefered to hang onto his memory instead of my body. But at that moment, I thought maybe he deserved a little comfort.
"Can I help?", barely a whisper, but in the still room it sounded too loud.
He looked at me strangely, but after a moment nodded. I leaned down and kissed him, letting him slide his hands into my robe. I felt it fall away from my body to the floor, leaving me in a worn out tanktop and soiled black panties. He rolled me onto my back, kissing me all over with the wildness and desperation of a starving animal. I threaded my fingers through his hair, shoving his pants down and expecting him to pull off the rest of my clothes as well. But instead, he nipped at my breasts through the cotton, rubbing my chest and arms tenderly. Stunned that he wasn't just getting it over with, I started sliding my trembling fingers down his arms, relearning the contours of the once familiar flesh. I gripped his back tight as he finally slid the tiny straps down my arms and started kissing his way down to my waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of the flimsy material and pulling it down my legs.
It dawned on me, as he pushed up into my body, that I wasn't whimpering or gasping or groaning like I usually did when he touched me. He wasn't either. He was just moving robotically, thrusting in and out with a blank stare. I knew I must look the same, since I didn't feel my face tugging up in a smile or contorting in a strange blend of pain and pleasure.
I can't remember if either of us climaxed. Probably not. I remember him pulling out and rolling onto his side, playing idly with my hair and staring out into space. I knew then that it was over, that no matter what I did, how often we fucked or kissed or said sweet nothings, we could never go back to what we were long ago. I had to say it now, or I would just stay here living like a lost soul, drifitng through life with no purpose or feeling.
"I didn't feel anything", a dry, scared whisper.
He nodded tiredly,
"Me either."
He understood. I was glad, relieved I didn't have to explain what I did in the next seconds. He just watched as I went to the closet and got dressed, throwing a few things in a suitcase and walking to the door. When I turned around to look at him one last time, his eyes were sincerely sad,
"I'm sorry Mandy", his voice the loudest it had been since he woke up, almost normal.
I nodded,
"Yeah. Me too,", and then I walked out.
also working on GRR...well trying to. damn geocities.
