| Subject: Untitled |
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Athena4
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Date Posted: 21:46:50 05/04/03 Sun
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "Untitled" on 21:45:41 05/04/03 Sun
The feel of eyes upon her awakened Madeline even in the pitch darkness. For a moment she lay there, eyes closed, breathing steady, trying to identify the source of the gaze.
It didn’t seem to come from above, there was no soft breathing to accompany the feel of eyes. That removed Charles from the equation. He often stared at her, when he thought she wasn’t awake, seemingly to convince himself she was real, that he hadn’t dreamed her.
Madeline smiled at the thought – at Charles’ innocence. He really was a good man, he just couldn’t believe their situation. She didn’t blame him; she often had trouble believing it herself.
“I know you’re awake.” The voice, unexpected as it was, startled Madeline, and her breath caught. How had he – “You’ve never been able to fool me.”
Opening her eyes, Madeline focused on the source of the voice; somewhere to the left of the bed. The figure coalesced before her in the darkness, seated on a chair several feet from her bedside.
“Paul - ” She sat up, but paused as his gaze fell on her, the pain in his eyes cutting her like a knife.
“Tell me again why you’re here – instead of with me?”
Her gaze flitted quickly to the right side of the bed, making note of the thrown back covers and the lack of warmth emanating from the sheets. Where was Charles?
“Did you – “
Paul sighed, exasperated, his eyes glinting, for a moment, with anger. “No. You know me better than that.”
“I’m sorry.” And she was. For so many things.
She could see his shrug in the darkness, could see the way his shoulders slumped as he ran his hands through his hair.
“I know what you said -” he began, raising his eyes once again to meet hers. “I know you asked me to stay away. I can’t.”
“You have to. Paul - ” She paused, realising she was moments away from telling him the truth. A truth he couldn’t know. Sitting up fully, she threw her legs over the side of the bed, flipping on the bedside lamp. “You can’t be here.”
He cringed away from the light, squinting his eyes, but he made no move to rise. It was then that Madeline noticed the empty glass in his hand, and the bottle on the table next to him. Her anger rising, she rose, pulling her bathrobe on as a talisman against his eyes.
“How long have you been here?”
He grunted, putting the glass down on the table, and looking up, his eyes following every curve of her body. “A couple of hours…”
“And Charles?” Her tone was sharp. Sober, he would have met her tone, but in his current state, he flinched.
“Conveniently called away. Walter’s keeping him busy.”
“Walter.”
“Yeah.”
“And what did you hope to accomplish with this?” She crossed the room towards him, pushing the bottle and glass to the far end of the table, out of his reach. He shrugged again, dropping his eyes to the floor.
“I wanted one more chance.”
“Dammit, Paul. Be a man.”
His shocked expression, and the hurt on his face almost brought her to her knees. But renewed anger quickly replaced her sympathy. Whether Paul realised it or not, he wasn’t the only one suffering. She hated this as much as he did – perhaps more so.
“You sneak into our home, sending my husband away on some errand, and you presume I’m going to fall to my knees for you? Who the hell do you think you are?”
He started again, but this time instead of taking it, he stood, fierce anger glinting in his eyes. “I thought I meant something to you,” he said sharply, taking a step towards her. “I thought we’d gotten past your fear. But right now, all I see is you hiding behind another barrier; this one in the shape of a man.”
It was Madeline’s turn to flinch, sitting down hard on the edge of the bed. If only she could tell him the truth, or at least some semblance of it. Instead, she had to perpetuate the lie – and if he believed Charles was yet another emotional barrier. Let him.
“If I denied it, would you believe me?” she said quietly, her tone just submissive enough to be believed.
He grunted, seating himself next to her on the bed, his hand brushing her thigh. “No.”
“I won’t do this again,” she muttered. “I can’t.” She had to cut the ties, painfully if need be. She paused, meeting his eye, the lie catching in her throat before she could say it out loud. She swallowed painfully. “The reasons don’t matter, Paul. Whatever you think they are. I love Charles. You and I don’t have a future.”
“Madeline - ” His hand drifted inward, and she felt him stroking her with a finger. “We were so good together.”
Placing a hand atop his, she slid it off her thigh, suppressing a anguished sigh. “No. I’m sorry. But this just can’t be.” Standing, she turned away, taking several steps in the direction of the washroom, before turning back. “If you’d like, I’ll request Adrian reassign you to another team. It would be a shame to lose you, but I’d understand.” After a few more steps, she paused in the bathroom doorway. “Whatever you decide, I expect you to be gone when I come out. Goodnight, Paul.”
As she shut the door behind her, Madeline leaned heavily against it, fighting to quiet the sob that wracked her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she slid to the floor, head on her knees.
I love you.
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