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Author's Chapter Notes:

There will be some time play in this tale...I will try to remember to clearly distinguish the month and year the chapter action is taking place...we start a bit in the future...next update will slip into the past




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


~January 2012~

"I like your hair."

 

Instinctively, Zoe's hand went to the side of her head and slid against the thin layer of fuzz remaining. Her fingers found their way to the curls preventing an unobstructed view of her face. His words were the first ones spoken not yelled between them in over a month. Her mind struggled to comprehend. Once upon a time they were in love. She was a girl consumed with a boy and he...he was just Keaton. It began in middle school, a science project gone wrong and a new bond forged. They engaged in silent conversations with only the roll of their eyes and giggles bubbling from their lips. A two person club was formed and no one was granted access to their private world. Over time the link deepened, morphed, and developed into an unhealthy co-dependency. Both had been unwilling to allow an hour to pass without some form of conversation; phone calls, hand written notes, and sometimes the easiest of smiles curving lips with just the mere thought of their last kiss.

 

Then things changed.

 

Their goodbye had been tumultuous. A clear exercise of violence; she screamed at the top of her lungs; he balled his fists; and they both said things a simple I'm sorry could never absolve. She wouldn't hesitate to utter the two word phrase if it meant things could and would return to the way they had been. She missed him; more than she cared to admit. It wasn't sleeping alone or even waking and rolling into the cold space on the other side of the mattress. What bothered her most about the demise of her connection with Keaton was she couldn't immediately recall the how or why things fell apart.

 

"I didn't know you would be here." Zoe shook her head, emerging from her trip down memory lane, and took a few steps back from him. He looked the same. He was twenty two now but he still looked barely a day over sixteen. Her fingers itched to touch the clear acrylic fourteen inch gauges stretching his lobes. His pale skin was flushed due to his frustration and even in the midst of her own irritation she wanted to console him. She tortured her bottom lip with her teeth and tried her best not to meet the baby blue gaze searching for her brown eyes, "I just thought..."

 

The thin veil of her patience evaporated, "You never think Keaton...you just do." She nearly choked herself, looping the scarf around her neck before slamming her arms into her worn leather jacket. Her eyes burned as she stared at him and she struggled to confront the reason behind their brief reunion, "He was my friend too." She shirked from his touch when he reached for her hand. Now was not the time to indulge the heart still beating for him or to refresh her body, mind, and soul with the comfort of his touch. They were there to grieve, not to relive the past.

 

Although their tones were hushed, Zoe and Keaton still drew a crowd. People stopped and studied them. Those who had known them were used to the passion and intensity accompanying their interactions. They were possessive and inherently jealous of one another. It extended beyond their friendship and physically beneficial relationship into the everyday happenings of their lives. Acquaintances were tainted, reduced to pawns in the empty arguments between Zoe and Keaton. When their love affair ended, the two had the unmitigated gall, to pen a list with names of their so called friends and who would lay claim to their loyalties.

 

"I can't do this."  She had barely made it out the door and into the cold when she heard the sound of his boots pounding against the cement. Breathless from the impromptu chase, Zoe found her path blocked by the empty hearse charged with transporting the casket holding the shell of the man they had both called friend. The dam burst and the tears welling in the corners of her eyes trickled down her cheeks. She didn't fight when an arm wrapped around her waist, and turned her body to face the only person capable of calming the storm of emotions surging within her. "It should have been me." She felt the tremor pass through him in response to her admission. Keaton's reply was silent, fingers skimmed her tear stained cheeks and his lips soon joined the diligent digits. "It should have been me." She repeated her guilt burdened confession, silently wishing for any deity to right the wrong that had been done.

 

~`~

 

Zoe was shaking like a leaf and for the first time in years, Keaton didn't know what to do to make things better. He couldn't wrap his arms any tighter around her frame. He struggled to pull her closer, longing to be one with her again, hoping that some measure of warmth from inside of him would be enough to ease the chills snaking a path down her spine. It should have been me. Even recalling her words caused a fear he wasn't willing or able to confront, over power him. "I'm not ready to lose you." He cupped her face between his hands and forced her eyes to meet his. She could never hide from him, not face to face. Over the phone it was easy for her to spit insults and proclaim how thankful she was to be rid of him. He had held his tongue the day she walked out of his life and . The truth weighing heavily on his heart and yet he was unable to come clean, to part his lips and fight for the only woman he had loved for as long as he could remember.

 

Keaton was still sorting his way through fact and fiction when it came to understanding the final disagreement that led to their demise. It had been a typical day, they woke up, she fixed breakfast, and he sketched. Everything was perfect and then...

 

He held her tighter, needing to distance them and incomplete conversation from the event orchestrating their reunion. He felt the need to expound on his comment from earlier but he couldn't, instead, "You look good Zoe." He didn't miss the blood reddening her cheeks or the way her eyes drifted to her feet, hiding her embarrassment. She was beautiful, even with half her head shaved. He smiled, noting her fishnets and the black boots stretching towards her thighs. His body stirred but he dampened his reaction and reminded himself, now was not the time for those thoughts or actions. He capitalized on her vulnerability, taking her hand in his, running his thumb and index finger across the skin still bearing his name.

 

It should have been me. Replaying the words over again, sent a chill down his spine. How could he make her understand? In her mind it was over the day she packed her things, snatching the bags down three flights of stairs, and waited in the cold for her car to emerge from the garage. He didn't fight, he had watched as she fidgeted struggling to keep warm on frigid December day. She had toyed with the pack of black and milds in her purse before she tossed them in the snow. She nibbled on her nails, never casting a wayward glance towards the window where he waited. She was stubborn. He had been too proud to clear the stairs barefoot and drag her back to the building and their bed.

 

He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.  

 

He needed answers but he also needed her.

 

She slipped her hand from his grasp and took a step back. He moved closer, trapping her between his body and the glossy black Cadillac from the funeral home, "Don't run from me Zoe."

 

A delicious curse, capable of cutting him off at the knees, was on the tip of her tongue, the evidence blazing in the pupils of her amber eyes, when a throat cleared behind them, and ended their test of wills. Keaton didn't say a word when the car's driver, stepped closer, and asked them both nonchalantly to move. He gave Zoe the space she wanted; clearing a path for her to slip back inside of the mortuary. He continued to stare at the door, long after it had closed. She couldn't avoid him forever, today they would shed tears, and tomorrow he would take the first step in reclaiming what was rightfully his...her heart.

 

 

 












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.