*It's just another late night in the city and I'm far too tired to go to bed. I'd rather stay up and watch you sleeping then chase these thoughts inside my head...*

Your eyes traced the outline of the body lying next to you, in perfect silent repose. The angular planes edged in shadow; the subtle curve of a hip, the length of leg and the smooth span of chest; the deceptively delicate hands.

Pretty little thing; pretty as a May morning, your mother would have said.

You always liked the pretty ones, the fragile looking ones with their spun glass features and razor sharp smiles. It was the duality that appealed to you, called to you, whispered improper proposals in your ear and dared you to follow them on down to the swimming hole, into the backseat, up to their bedroom. You never could resist them; hell, you didn't even try.

"Blue eyes on blue", that's what you said to him in the bar not two hours ago.

*Blue eyes on blue; you're like me and I'm like you.*

As pick up lines went it was a little odd but he seemed to appreciate your frame of mind if the short laugh was anything to go by; he said you sounded like a poet. You corrected him and said songwriter. You were both on the road alone and at loose ends, might as well be alone together for a while, you said.

He raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down. "I like you mate, you remind me of someone I used to know." His smile was just this side of sad, sad and old like another blonde you knew.

*Open your eyes and let me in. I'll invite your soul out for a slice of sin.*

He let you buy him a drink. You let him see one of the songs you were working on; you were going to try your luck in Nashville, yes sir, home of the Grand Ole Opry and real music.

He just smiled and for a minute, you thought he was going to reach out and ruffle your hair, like your momma used to do when you were new, untarnished and shiny, fresh out of the box - store bought - and didn't those words conjure up memories of a childhood you thought you wanted to forget.

* I'm looking for a way out of this hole I've dug; knee deep in sorrow, hands covered in blood. *

He made suggestions for your songs; a word change there, a chord change here, all the time sipping his whiskey and watching you work, a half smile on his lips.

He wasn't drunk and neither were you when you suggested he come back to your motel room. You'd spent too much time drinking to forget the unforgettable; time to let the memories take their places and get comfortable for the duration.

The sex was good, the sex was nice; not as rough as you were used to; you could sense him holding back, but than so were you. No need to add injuries to insults, which were the only hurts that mattered to either of you.

"I'm disappointed in you./You're beneath me./You're a monster./Please don't do this."

'Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?' Well it isn't you; you aren't even in the running, not anymore.

You reach out and let your hand trace the path your eyes had mapped out earlier. He rolls over and gives you a sleepy smile.

"Lie back down pet. There's time enough for thinking later."

"This is it, isn't it? This feeling isn't going away?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand you and you appreciated that, more than you could say. He just hugged you a little closer and kissed your head and pulled the covers up tight.

*I'll whisper sweet nothing's in your ear and in return you'll hold my tears, until the day, I bid you let them go. *

The End