![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Title: Broken
Author: The Phantom Writer![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: BB/DM... sorta.
Pairing: PG-13
Feedback: Love with a Dommie on top?
Disclaimer: This isn't real. Nope, not so much.
Notes: Spark word fic! The spark word was 'broken,' (my title's really original, isn't it? Oh well. I feel that it fits the story.) and I wrote it in 13 minutes.
'Tis angsty! Of course. What else can you expect from a spark word like that?
Anyway... enjoy!
It happened again. He took me and broke me. He’s done it so many times, I wonder why I keep returning to him. It’s stupid, I know, but… It’s all about love. What else can I say about that? I used to think I was in love with him. I used to believe that he loved me as well. But, when anything we do is termed as ‘screwing around’ rather than making love or making out, it seems to me that he doesn’t see it as love.
I wonder if he ever did.
I wonder if it ever was love, even on my account. Did I love him? Had I ever loved him? Yes, I decide firmly. He used to kiss my eyelids to wake me up in the mornings – I loved him then. Waking up to his breath and kisses was the best thing I could ever imagine.
Then, when he began to stray, so did my mind. I stayed at home, waiting for his return, but I had to force myself not to think of where he was and what he was doing… or who he was doing.
He strayed to other men and perhaps a few women. My mind strayed to my best mate. Billy.
That’s when I would look back on all the times Billy and I hung out, all the laughs we shared, and I began to remember times when his hand would graze over my arm. I had felt a tingle run through my body, but I overlooked it, dismissing the feeling as a cold wind or the fact that I was getting the flu. But now I remember. Remember everything that, since I had been in this relationship, my unconscious had forced me to ignore.
Now every touch exchanged between Billy and me is darting through my mind, and I can’t forget it.
And suddenly, I don’t feel like I’m in a relationship. Yes, Elijah may still scowl and pinch the back of my neck if he catches me ‘gazing’ at pictures of Billy and myself, but… he gives me nothing other than a guilty conscience (that I don’t deserve) and dark bruises (which I feel are highly uncalled for).
I jump to my feet and begin to pace, biting my lip as I create a plan in my mind. I’ll rush to the airport, buy the first seat possible on a plane to Glasgow, and go to visit my Billy. Tell him everything. Even if he doesn’t want anything more than a friendship, I know he’ll look past my confession and hold me until the tears are dried. Then, I’ll start over. Start over in a new relationship. With Billy.
As quickly as my mind starts rolling with ideas, it stops abruptly, and I collapse onto the sofa, my knees buckling. As much as I want to, I can’t leave Elijah, with his pinching fingers and his cursing lips. I would have nowhere to go.
Because, as much as I feel the need to escape, I must look at it reasonably.
Why would Billy want me? I’m broken.
Broken things don’t always mend.
Author: The Phantom Writer
silentnumbsmokePairing: BB/DM... sorta.
Pairing: PG-13
Feedback: Love with a Dommie on top?
Disclaimer: This isn't real. Nope, not so much.
Notes: Spark word fic! The spark word was 'broken,' (my title's really original, isn't it? Oh well. I feel that it fits the story.) and I wrote it in 13 minutes.
'Tis angsty! Of course. What else can you expect from a spark word like that?
Anyway... enjoy!
It happened again. He took me and broke me. He’s done it so many times, I wonder why I keep returning to him. It’s stupid, I know, but… It’s all about love. What else can I say about that? I used to think I was in love with him. I used to believe that he loved me as well. But, when anything we do is termed as ‘screwing around’ rather than making love or making out, it seems to me that he doesn’t see it as love.
I wonder if he ever did.
I wonder if it ever was love, even on my account. Did I love him? Had I ever loved him? Yes, I decide firmly. He used to kiss my eyelids to wake me up in the mornings – I loved him then. Waking up to his breath and kisses was the best thing I could ever imagine.
Then, when he began to stray, so did my mind. I stayed at home, waiting for his return, but I had to force myself not to think of where he was and what he was doing… or who he was doing.
He strayed to other men and perhaps a few women. My mind strayed to my best mate. Billy.
That’s when I would look back on all the times Billy and I hung out, all the laughs we shared, and I began to remember times when his hand would graze over my arm. I had felt a tingle run through my body, but I overlooked it, dismissing the feeling as a cold wind or the fact that I was getting the flu. But now I remember. Remember everything that, since I had been in this relationship, my unconscious had forced me to ignore.
Now every touch exchanged between Billy and me is darting through my mind, and I can’t forget it.
And suddenly, I don’t feel like I’m in a relationship. Yes, Elijah may still scowl and pinch the back of my neck if he catches me ‘gazing’ at pictures of Billy and myself, but… he gives me nothing other than a guilty conscience (that I don’t deserve) and dark bruises (which I feel are highly uncalled for).
I jump to my feet and begin to pace, biting my lip as I create a plan in my mind. I’ll rush to the airport, buy the first seat possible on a plane to Glasgow, and go to visit my Billy. Tell him everything. Even if he doesn’t want anything more than a friendship, I know he’ll look past my confession and hold me until the tears are dried. Then, I’ll start over. Start over in a new relationship. With Billy.
As quickly as my mind starts rolling with ideas, it stops abruptly, and I collapse onto the sofa, my knees buckling. As much as I want to, I can’t leave Elijah, with his pinching fingers and his cursing lips. I would have nowhere to go.
Because, as much as I feel the need to escape, I must look at it reasonably.
Why would Billy want me? I’m broken.
Broken things don’t always mend.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Why would Billy want me? I’m broken.
Broken things don’t always mend.
wonderfully put.
From:
no subject
Oh my Pippin was that sad! *loves*