Ahem. Yes, this is all human. Again. Yes, this is full of angst, and no HEA. Again. Yes, this is a song fic. Wha-
OOC. Abuse. Need I say more? MMM.
The Lightning Strike(Part One. The whole song-All three, I think-was like seventeen minutes. 80. I love you guys, but not enough to do the whole song)
By: Snow Patrol
Awesome song that made me want to write this sad cheese. Don't diss the queso.
(~~~!~~~)
What if this storm ends?
She scowled in irritation, sitting with her back straight against the wall, listening through the crack of the door. Listening to his unsteady breaths as he gulped down the whiskey she knew he hid in that small table next to their bed.
She hated this. Hated loving him.
And I don't see you
As you are now
Ever again.
He didn't love her.
To him, she was just an object of release, just a common street whore.
She closed her eyes, and bit her lip, thinking of how he'd held her, stroking back her hair from her face, and pressing kisses roughly on her face. Always rough. Never gentle.
Thinking about their argument, she shook her head at her own stupidity. How dumb of her to pick a fight with him while he was drunk.
She sighed softly, brushing the tips of her fingers along the handshaped bruises that ran along her arms, tenderly. The remains of his anger, his outrage.
The perfect halo,
She opened her eyes, pressing her ear softly to the wooden door. It was very obvious that he would not be coming out any time soon.
He was most likely sitting with his back against their bed, cigarette in one hand, whiskey in the other.
His golden-amber eyes, dull and full of nothing but the raging hate she knew he felt for her, staring holes into the wall in front of him.
She tapped the backs of her knuckles against his door, ignoring the fact that he did not answer.
Of golden hair and lightning,
"I'm leaving."
The whispered words were nothing more than a lie, that she knew he was aware of.
She said them every time they repeated this cycle; They'd fight. She'd end up bruised. He'd lock himself up in his room with his whiskey. She said she'd leave, but she always came back.
"I'm not coming back."
She held her breath and waited.
Waited for him to open that locked door, and waited for him to hold her, convince her to stay, to never leave.
The door remained locked. It remained shut.
Sets you off against,
The planet's last dance.
She don't know why she tried, or felt disappointed, anymore. Nothing would change. He would never care enough to make her stay.
Because he knew she would come back.
(~~~~!~~~~)
Just for a minute,
The silver forked sky.
She sighed to herself, standing in front of the apartment door, key in her hand. A102.
She'd come back. Again.
Raising an unsteady hand, she knocked softly against the rusted door, scratching her soft, bruised skin agaist the peeling paint. Wishing he'd open the door soon.
She glanced nervously over her shoulder, hating the muskiness, the vulgarness, and the stench that covered the ghetto apartment. So many scary people, including the man she was visiting, lived here.
They all looked broken and beaten down; Tough and hard. As if they'd taken all that life had thrown at them, and was seeking out their revenge for vengeance.
He'd protect her. Despite the marks and scars, physically and emotionally, he protected her.
Lit you up like a star,
That I will follow.
He opened the door, wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. Her smile faded a bit. He obviously hadn't felt the need to freshen up for her.
His smile didn't reach his eyes. She knew why; He was angry at her for walking out on him yesterday. And now she would pay for it. Like she always did.
Now its found us,
Like I have found you.
He reached out, gripping her forearm with more force than needed.
He didn't pull her in, though.
No.
He never pulled her inside his apartment.
It was always her choice. He gave her the option to run, to run and free herself of him, rid herself of his callous soul and indifference towards her.
I don't want to run.
Just overwhelm me.
She walked in, willingly. Just like she always did.
(~~~*~~~)
What if this storm ends?
Why did she come back?
Why did she always go back?
She closed her eyes against the blows he rained upon her, his fury washing over her like water, splashing along every inch of her skin.
And leaves us nothing.
Except a memory.
His punches finally ceased, and he let her fall limply to the floor.
She looked up at him, the obssesive love she felt for him thrummed through her like a second heartbeat.
His gaze was, as always, cold, hard, and unyielding.
But his brilliant golden eyes softened, slightly, and he sat down next to her, bringing her close to him, holding her on his lap, pressing her head to his chest. Cradling her gently. Gently.
Gently.
Until his nails began digging into her skin.
Roughly.
She let out a quick gasp, following the trail of scarlet that trailed from her ivory skin, down her arm.
Scarred.
She gave a small cry of pain, but he pretended not to hear, cutting deeper.
A distant echo.
His breaths were quick and shallow, and she was comforted by the fact that he was enjoying himself, at least.
He pushed her away from him, glaring down at her as if she were beneath him.
As if she disgusted him.
I want pinned down,
I want unsettled.
He bent down, kissing her with such a force she tasted the coppery flavor of blood in her mouth, and pulled away, turning his back on her.
Rattle cage after cage,
Until my blood boils.
Then he left her there, staring after him.
(~~~***~~~)
I want to see you,
As you are now.
She came back.
Again.
His arm curled around her as she snuggled deep into his chest, practically purring with contentment. This was how it should be. Happy. Peaceful. Loved.
Every single day
That I am living.
She felt his lips brush against the back of her neck, and he hummed, stirring her hair.
Painted in flames.
All peeling thunder.
It wasn't always like this.
His next actions proved that.
Hands connected against her cheek, his words were harsh, and unforgiving.
She'd knocked over his shot of tequila, lost in her bliss and contentment, she hadn't even realized she'd knocked over one of the many things he cared about more than her.
"I hate you."
She froze, staring up at him.
They'd exchanged hateful words, in many of their arguments, but surely he didn't mean it-?
His golden eyes were angry. Angry and tired. He was about to beat her. Again. Over spilled tequila.
He was drunk, and furious.
She swallowed the sob that was threatening to escape.
Tears never stopped him. If anything, they egged him on.
Be the lightning in me.
He didn't love her. She aready knew that.
But she didn't realize that he hated her.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I. Hate. You.
He spat.
On her face.
Showing her, that to him, she was nothing but worthless.
Again.
(~~~...~~~)
That strikes relentless.
She hadn't been back for a whole week.
The longest she'd ever gone without seeing him.
She tried to fight it. He expected her to come back. He knew she loved him, and couldn't stay apart from him for much longer.
What if the storm ends?
And I don't see you?
She watched from her car, as the attractive Asian girl knocked on the door. A102. Her almond brown eyes were light with anticipation, and she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet.
As you are now.
Ever again.
The door opened, and she watched as he stood there, smiling at the girl.
His smile didn't touch his eyes. It never did.
The girl walked in, willingly, and she watched, betrayal stinging like salt on an open wound, as he pressed a hand firmly on her lower back, the door shutting behind them.
The perfect halo,
On gold hair and lightning.
(~~~!~~~)
Sets you off against.
The planet's last dance.
Just for a minute,
The silver forked sky.
Lit you up like a star,
That I will follow.
A102.
She stood in front of it.
Again.
Now its found us.
Like I have found you.
He smiled. Fake.
Her heartbeat picked up, feeling herself drown in the overwhelming love and relief she felt, seeing him again.
It didn't matter to her that he'd cheated.
I don't want to run.
She smiled back.
Stepping forward, and into his arms.
They would never learn.
He fingered her bruises that dotted along her jaw, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"C'mere, you," he mumured, pulling her closer.
She gave a small giggle, laying her head against his chest, inhaling his scent of alcohol, sex, blood, and lemons.
They would repeat this. Again and again.
But that didn't matter.
Just overwhelm me.