Title: This Beautiful Lie Author: Jemirah Archive: Sure, if you really want it--just let me know please! Spoilers: None, zero, zip, zilch, nada, negative, none,... You get the idea. Rating: PG-13 Category: Major angst--It's not pretty, folks. Summary: See author's notes. Feedback: Please? Pretty please? (jemirah@hotmail.com) Disclaimer: Read 'Meditations on the Abyss', I put a really witty one in that and I can't remember it now. Author's Notes: Ok, like I said, it ain't pretty. I just always wondered, if one were in love, but the other one wasn't, what would happen? I know, I know--it's been done, but, as several of my friends told me, it hasn't been done by me! I have never liked stories like this, but now I've written one. I never thought I'd write one of these! Additional Author's Notes: Ok, I have to admit it, this was inspired and really written around a song. Care to guess what song? There were also two songs sort of mentioned in 'Abyss'. Anybody interested in a friendly game of Guess the Song Reference? Special Thanks: To Kelly M. for saying I should "by all means" inflict this little slice of depression on the rest of the fan fic reading world. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This Beautiful Lie ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She had let her soul grow cold, unused. It was like that with her, she tucked things she didn't need deep inside and forgot about them. A thin veneer of ice had accumulated on it, but she was ready to use it again, so she invited him in, underneath the ice. She wanted him to warm her soul, thaw it out. He didn't respond, ignored her, stayed where he was standing looking out the window. He scared her with his hesitance. Her soul began to creep back into its hiding place. He was worried about her, she could see it work its way across his features. She knew he'd wanted her for a long time, and apparently he wanted her enough to make it worth this. He finally turned to her, met her gaze and kissed her, a kiss that didn't raise more questions than it answered. She felt faint, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, his were still open, blistering her with that mind-reading, soul-reaching gaze that she could feel all the way through her body. "I love you." She said it this time, and she had no drugs, no near-death experience to blame it on. She thought it would make a difference, make him need her too, but he pretended not to hear her as he removed her blouse. At least she could have this, this beautiful lie. He could only give part of himself, but she took what he offered greedily. They were both consenting adults. Immeasurably stupid ones, but consenting nonetheless. She closed her eyes to the regret in his. He looked like he thought God had deserted him-he could deceive himself like that- so he worshipped her instead. She had never understood that about him, how he could think so highly of her, yet he wouldn't let himself feel what she felt. It had been a vicious circle, her fear, his fear circling each other in a game of tag that no one ever won. But not anymore. She had tagged him, and was standing still for him to tag her in return. At least she had this part of him. With it, she could ignore the lie his body was telling hers with a sweet rhythm. She could make-believe it was the truth. He gave all he was going to, and she took it. She could live the rest of her life with her eyes closed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~