Leaves fell down and glinted gold, red and chocolate brown (like her hair) in weak sunlight. The wind was ice cold, but what little warmth there was reminded me of how much I’d be missing summer. Boston was fifty miles away and the sun was beginning to set. My head was filled with lyrics to songs I only half-remembered, and it was beginning to irritate me. I knew the words but I couldn’t quite find the melody.
...You got a piece of me, but it’s
just a little piece of me, and I don’t need anyone…
I growled impatiently, hating the way every single fucking thing reminded me of her. I reached for the tags around my throat, gave them a tug and scowled. This almost worse than thinking about Jeannie right after she died.
Once I got to Boston, I found a little cafe. I started drinking a Molson and ignored the blonde behind the bar making eyes at me. Sorry, darlin’, I’m partial to brunettes. Another sip. The blonde was starting to get impatient, now. She started wiping down the bar right in front of me, trying to make eye contact. I only raised an eyebrow at her, and fished a cigar out of my jacket. One of the good ones, from Chuck’s. The music on the radio was familiar, and I almost laughed when I recognized the words.
...You got a
piece of me, but it’s just a little piece of me…
I inhaled, trying to revel in the taste but failing. I could barely taste it, and my mind was on the song.
...Like she said she loved to watch me sleep, like she said: “It’s the
breathing in and out and in…” Have you seen me lately?...
No, she hadn’t seen me lately. I’d been gone for nearly six months, just driving and fighting and drinking like I always used to. Funny thing was, it didn’t feel the same anymore. That old contentment, that peace wasn’t there anymore. Not that I was ever too fucking peaceful, not then. But there were some nights, when everything was quiet, when it was just me and the road… But all I felt was restless. No matter what I did, I couldn’t keep the last time we’d seen each other out of my head.
I always knew she had some feelings for me, Jeannie said so, and it was pretty much plain as day just looking at her. Always had bright eyes when she looked at me, like she was drinking the sight of me in, that dreamy little half-smile on her face. I had been fond of her then. We had something, a bond or whatever, and I acknowledged it. That was it. I couldn’t care less whether not she some little boy sniffing around her, freezing people’s hands when they got too close for comfort. Heh, couldn’t blame the poor kid for being jealous though, she barely looked twice at him when I was in the room. And yeah, that felt good, hero-worship is always welcome, rare as it is. But I was in love with Jeannie.
Well, love’s a big word. I wanted her, I liked her, and there was something about the way she moved like she was completely in tune with the world around her…I loved that about her. But there were only certain qualities I loved, not the whole person. I realized that when she died, when I saw Scott’s reaction. He loved her, completely, inside and out. And in the end, I just felt ashamed I ever made him doubt what they had, that I took some time away from them.
Another thing that helped me see my feelings for Jeannie for what they really were was Marie. Yeah, Marie. Lately I’d been thinking of her with that name. Rogue just doesn’t really fit her, I think. It only represents that one quality she has, that survivor, fuck you if you don’t like that I’m a mutie, kinda thing. But I know her, all the way, and there’s so much else in there. Her sincerity, her daring, her craziness, her mood swings, her dark sense of humor, the way she loved someone all the way, with all her heart, just like that. That’s what made me do all that stuff for her. Damn, she knew me all of two days and she had me giving her rides, promising to take care of her, running after her, saving her life, risking mine, giving her my tags. I sighed.
“What’s wrong, honey?” the blonde asked, a little smile tugging at her red lips. “You feeling lonely?”
...Have you seen me lately? I was out on the
radio, starting to change, somewhere out in America it's starting to rain.
could you tell me the things you remember about me? Have you seen me
lately?...
I was pretty sure she remembered me, hard to forget me, since I saved her life and all. But the last time I saw her, she didn’t seem to remember me too well. In my mind, I recalled her sitting on that couch, kissing that ice boy, not even seeing me leave. I left the bar, without another word to the stunned blonde. There was only one woman on my mind, and she sure as hell didn’t have blonde hair.
I opened my eyes, and found myself staring into the same face I’d been thinking about for a good six months straight. “Hey…” I said, and was surprised to find my voice oddly slurred. And why was I on my back? “Hey.” She was smiling, her gloved hand on my arm, and I wondered if she’d touched me and I’d forgotten. My head felt heavy, and everything hurt. And, shit, what was that smell? Was I in a hospital? Last thing I remembered was…uh…. “Where am I, darlin’?” I slurred, looking up at her. “You’re in the hospital, you had a car accident. You were drinking, they said.” God, she was so beautiful. “God, you’re so beautiful.” I was having a hard time keeping my thoughts in my head. She bent over slightly, her face so close to mine. “I love to watch you sleep. The breathing, in and out, like that…you’re the beautiful one, sugar.”
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Story Notes:
Dedicated to the Counting Crows, they’re great inspiration at two o’clock in the morning. Also, to the other source of inspiration, the ever-present bitchy blondes that always seem to jump up in my life. Yeah, I’ve got some blonde issues. lol