Title: Nights
Rating: R to be safe...
Disclaimer: I disclaim. I claim nothing. I own nothing.
AN: This is really short and repetitive but it stuck in my mind for most of the day so here it is.
The best nights, the blonde hair isn’t coarse and thick, it’s silky and slips easily through his fingers.
The best nights, the curves he traces are softer and less defined, her lips are more full, and he doesn’t realize that it isn’t her.
The best nights, he sleeps all the way through until dawn without waking up, tossing, turning, restless.
The best nights, drunk and mindlessly banging into a stranger, he totally forgets what he’s missing. Who he’s missing.
The worst nights, he drinks himself into oblivion missing her, wanting her.
The worst nights, he can’t fool his body and lose himself in some random blonde.
The worst nights, he has nightmares of her death, her blood, her screams, and wakes up in a cold sweat, nauseous.
Most nights he sits alone and awake in their bed with her pictures all around him and a video she put together of their week-long honeymoon playing on repeat.
The best nights, random eyes turn hazel so he doesn’t have to close his, ignore the fact that they’re not hers sparkling and filled with love and witty intelligence.
The best nights, he can forget everything but the body he’s buried himself into, even blur the fact that it’s not hers.
The worst nights, he stares into the barrel of a gun and can’t help but remember her dying request, the promise he was forced to make.
The worst nights, he prepares himself to betray her, to kill himself and be done with it, knowing that she would understand even though he’d be breaking his promise, he’d have lied.
Most nights he ends up sitting on her grave, silently staring at the epitaph mocking him in its simplicity.
Here Lies Chloe.
Most nights he keeps himself from sobbing, from lashing out at the marble marking his lover’s grave, from screaming into the night.
But nights like these? Nights like these are few and far between. Nights like these he dreams of happier times. Nights like these he dreams of being with her, of being happy, of holding her and being held by her. Nights like these he dreams of her love keeping him safe. Nights like these he is reminded even more of why he loved her so much. Nights like these he treasures the most. Nights like these, he’s in heaven with her. Nights like these are his reason to keep going.
The end.
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