I don't think people think much of the person who does the break up, because we are always portrayed as villains and there seems to be no notion that we are breaking up from the inside or from those who just walk away. Or maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better in a way. Because if you don't make yourself feel better, no one will. I don't think people understand the grief of being the one to do the final shot and to actually shoot something living. It's like releasing the spider to bite you sooner, it's being the one to pull the plug, because it's better to break up than to be broken up with. Because from that time, you don't see the other person as an item with yourself and you see all the quirks which irritate and that's all. It's stepping back when you weren't an item and before I had fallen in love, only now there's no love ahead and the glasses are long broken with the pink glass under one's heel.
I grasp onto him, as he gets my hair out of my eyes, so that it doesn't get drenched in tears and I just stare at him, gasping for air in the midst of a hysteria and watching him.
Why does the love never go away?
Why is it never a love story between us? Why is there a tainted past?
I want to be the one to pin him down, I want to be Jack and now make love to him.
I realize how messy I am with my hair, my shaking hands and my desire to feel his love again. But I still clutch him, as he pulls me closer, but I lean back, so that I can have a good look on what I'm missing and age barely touches him, he looks different on his Facebook photos, which age him and photos never did him justice. I start hiccuping and I don't let him go, grabbing onto his arms, as he tries to stand up.
“I'll just get some water for you, Alison. It'll be alright.” And that causes me to bawl even more. I'll never know if he even loves me anymore. I just tell myself that now he's holding me in his arms and it's not like he's avoiding my calls like he once did. Somehow my hysterias just get cut off short sometimes and I let him go, my breathing easing, but I still remain under the counter, pressing my head against the table and wondering if I could even tell him about Lana, even now. I don't know how does pure honesty trigger someone back in to sleep in the same bed, though.
It's as if I make a deal with myself that he'd get back to me or even consider, if I were to tell the damn truth for once. I just would paint Lana as a villain because I loved her too much to even state something else, because I couldn't face myself to say anything else other than filth and lies. Jamie pours some water and quickly gives it to me. He motions for me to drink it, as I just stare ahead, both hands on the poor glass. Jamie keeps standing and I just stand up myself, shaking and even spilling some water, but instead we are caught in an insane stare, as if his anger came back and he knows, coming back here, that I have never changed and I'm still the same, while he had made a living for himself.
I don't even know where to start.
I rub my eye and get mascara on my hands, as I sniff, looking down on it.
“I really loved you.” I don't look up, biting my lip. “Who am I kidding, I still love you.”
I see Jamie shift from one leg to another and I can't stand to even look at him in the face.
“Yeah, I choose you because you would never charge me. I'm literally fighting nail and teeth for this, I don't need more of my saving going elsewhere.” I keep looking down and wondering if he even wants my honesty, why am I crying about Lana and confessing to another man. “But it was mostly...”
I look up to see him concentrated and just as sad as I would like him to be.
“Mostly...” I loose my trail of thinking and sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Because I wanted to talk to you again. Even if it were just for a few days and you would never talk to me again. Because... it's like choosing to meet the love of your life-”
He tenses up.
“Once and for one day than not meeting them at all.” I sniff. I close my eyes, knowing what's about to happen next.
“You asked for a divorce on one morning, Alison. No explanation, nothing.” His own voice breaks and I can't stand to even look at him. “You claim you want to be alone, but you barely leave the house anymore. You've started drawing less and less-”
I start crying again and my hands are glued to my face. He doesn't touch me either because he doesn't love me or on the opposite loves me far too much.
“You haven't done a show in a while, you're still living off that one successful show you had, you sell some paintings here and there, but you're not doing anything big. Nothing like you've stated I was holding you back from...” I hear him do one step towards me, but my eyes are too blurry to see and I keep gasping to even hear him clearly. “Maybe you should've just admitted that-”
I'm sure Jamie is choosing the right words, making a break just to ruffle everything twice in his head.
“It was never what you wanted?” And he asks and he's hovering near me, as I put my shaking hands down and I want to desperately-
Let us be in a lie.
His hands are on both sides of me and he's caught me again. I look at him, trying to see any other outcome with his hands like this, before I fucking lean closer, my whole body trembling for his touch. I search for something else in his eyes, anything,
but he's just as desperately broken as I am.
We consume each other, hungrily and I don't even remember the taste of any other kisses, as this one just manages to shield them all. He grabs me and I know everything he's saying through kissing me, teeth, tongue and lips. It's not that the world gets painted black, it feels like a death kiss of desperation, when you know you've got some impending doom, but it lingers like an underlying taste, with his hands in my hair, as he keeps on kissing me, pushing me further against the counter, then breaking the kiss just to travel to my neck and suck on it.
I pull his hair. He doesn't stop and I moan. Both of us paralyzed at the sudden display of noise, but he eases, kissing my neck softer and probably now with his eyes opened, wondering what have we both done.
What have we done.
I regret not holding him on my lips, as he just kisses my neck one last time.
I regret not memorizing the kiss with the most lust I've seen, but he leans back and we're both heavily breathing. We would never have this while we were married, everything was happy and idyllic.
Jamie brings a hand to his mouth, as if trying to see if the kiss was real, as he just watches me, never looking anywhere else.
I could never find us in books, because no one would bother to write a queer couple. Now, I see. I just breathe heavier, because now we're both faced with a future where we decide where do we go now.
I still don't even know how to even admit to myself that I need him. I'm not ready, but I want to kiss him again, so where does the truth actually spit lies? Where is the lying truth? It's as if we could both call it a night to sleep on it.
I look at him.
It's only always me who needs the night to think.
I need to break him out of his bubble.
“I... Can't.” I say and he just sigh heavily, tensing up and crossing his arms. “I lied to you.”
Jamie tenses up even more.
“Not about us.” He eases.
“Lana.” I say and then my throat goes dry, as he just watches me confused. I raid the counter behind me for cigarettes even if I damn well know they are in my pocket, so instead he just stretches out a pack from his own pocket and hands me one. Then he fishes out the lighter from the same pocket, clicking it a few times before the flame finally emerges and then he allows it to lick the cigarette tip, before he gets one for himself just in case.
“What about your sister?” Jamie asks completely lost and bewildered still from the kiss.
I'm no longer crying and I think I've got a hickey on my neck from my ex-husband.
I was actually avoiding updating a different story which I've been super struggling with for a good while now and I felt like listening to Marina and the Diamonds so then the question arose, which story would be fitting and Callie suggested RV which kind of caught my eye. When I have no idea which story to pick up, Callie always comes to help me out xD
I wrote this in one sitting and I'm sorry that it's a bit shorter than the previous chapter, but I quite enjoy how it turned out and whatnot. I kind of really went not knowing where to go and just kept writing and story telling, until I knew that I wanted them to kiss and Alison to speak about Lana.
For some reason I've been recalling my previous relationship which was years ago, because I stumbled onto an old Arctic Monkeys song which reminded me of her (crazy times when I had a girlfriend, before I knew I was trans and gay) and I broke up with her because I couldn't take it anymore and kind of all that thinking gave way into the first chapter of this story.
I listened to Marina all up to their kiss, which I think shows very explicitly when I was listening to The Cure xD I've kind of been on the topic of coming back to old lovers when it comes to fanfiction and whatnot, so it's been quite a reaccuring theme which I've been exploiting to the maximum.
Jamie playing with Alison's hair and the overall hairplay came to my mind because of a gifset where there's Jamie fixing Alison's hair and Jack White as well.
I like having Alison as nonbinary, which is just a headcanon I have and kind of I like writing the bloke and nb dynamic because I am in one with Callie so of course it strikes home for me.
Callie is my editor and she nagged that I should write a bit more to make the ending far more dramatic than Alison just saying Lana's name, so that's where Jamie's sentence was added and I left the hickey line last because it was a good ending in my opinion.
I'm super tired after doing this sprint and posting it, so I may have left out some things simply because I got tired xD
If you liked it, please tell me so:)
Thank you so much for your support