Heartbroken (1/1)
13/4/05 23:03![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ibonekoenTitle: Heartbroken
Rating: mild PG, mostly for language
Fandom: The Faculty
Pairing: Casey/Zeke
Disclaimer: In case you've forgotten, no, I don't own these characters. I'm merely borrowing them for my own amusement and yours.
Summary: Zeke's heart is breaking and it's his own fault.
Author's note: It's not one of my best, so let me apologize in advance for its crappiness.
I’ve never been one to go in for all that emotional, melancholy ‘oh my god, I’m so depressed, kill me, please’ shit. I’ve always kept myself closed off, never letting anyone get too near me. Casey was an exception. No matter how many brick walls I erected around my heart, he managed to tear them down and wormed his way into every nook and cranny of my heart.
I’m fucking regretting that fact right now. It’s been four days, twenty-two hours, one thousand four hundred minutes and twenty-six seconds since he left. I keep hoping that the door to my bedroom will open and he’ll be standing there with that sexy little smirk on her face, but as the seconds crawl by, a little bit more of that hope dies.
The worst part of it is that I knew this day would come. I knew I’d do something that would drive him away. I’m an idiot like that.
I’ve always had trouble trusting. Everybody important in my life has left at one time or another. My father left my mother when I was nine. She was in denial and started taking off on European vacations, leaving me in the care of my sister. My sister left because she got an offer to dance with a troupe in London.
I was -- no, am -- afraid of letting someone get close because I’m afraid of them leaving me. I’m afraid of how intensely I’ve fallen for Casey.
I don’t know why I did it, but I slept with Stokely. We were drunk and partying and one thing let to another. I love Casey, I do, I just. . .she was there, she’s hot and I thought I wanted freedom.
Casey freaked out. We had a horrible argument and he ended up very coldly telling me that he never wanted to see me again, then stormed out of the house.
I knew that words could hurt so much. ‘I never want to see you again.’ Those seven words have shattered me. I’ve become an emotional, melancholy, ‘oh my god, I’m so depressed, kill me, please’ person.
Case in point. The lights are dimmed and candles burn on the nightstand beside the bed and the dresser. I’m sitting on the bed, my back against the headboard. A small, rectangular box is balanced across my lap.
This box is my keepsake box. My grandmother gave it to me when I was a child. I haven’t had anything worth remembering to stick in there. . .until I started dating Casey. Now the box is filled with pictures I’ve taken of him. I’m not as good as he is, but at least the pictures are in focus. The box also contains notes he’s written me and left in my locker. They’re mostly just ‘I love you’ and hearts with our names in them, but they still make me smile.
I flip through the pictures and reread every single note. I hesitantly pick up the key ring I had made for him. I gave it to him for his birthday. It’s engraved ‘To Casey, with love, Zeke.’ I close my fist around the key ring and press my fist to my forehead.
I think. . .wait, that’s not right. . .I know I’ve made a mistake. I’m miserable without Casey. I can’t sleep, my appetite’s completely gone, I care about nothing. It still scares me to know how much I need him, how much I love him, but I’d do anything for a second chance. Anything.
Rating: mild PG, mostly for language
Fandom: The Faculty
Pairing: Casey/Zeke
Disclaimer: In case you've forgotten, no, I don't own these characters. I'm merely borrowing them for my own amusement and yours.
Summary: Zeke's heart is breaking and it's his own fault.
Author's note: It's not one of my best, so let me apologize in advance for its crappiness.
I’ve never been one to go in for all that emotional, melancholy ‘oh my god, I’m so depressed, kill me, please’ shit. I’ve always kept myself closed off, never letting anyone get too near me. Casey was an exception. No matter how many brick walls I erected around my heart, he managed to tear them down and wormed his way into every nook and cranny of my heart.
I’m fucking regretting that fact right now. It’s been four days, twenty-two hours, one thousand four hundred minutes and twenty-six seconds since he left. I keep hoping that the door to my bedroom will open and he’ll be standing there with that sexy little smirk on her face, but as the seconds crawl by, a little bit more of that hope dies.
The worst part of it is that I knew this day would come. I knew I’d do something that would drive him away. I’m an idiot like that.
I’ve always had trouble trusting. Everybody important in my life has left at one time or another. My father left my mother when I was nine. She was in denial and started taking off on European vacations, leaving me in the care of my sister. My sister left because she got an offer to dance with a troupe in London.
I was -- no, am -- afraid of letting someone get close because I’m afraid of them leaving me. I’m afraid of how intensely I’ve fallen for Casey.
I don’t know why I did it, but I slept with Stokely. We were drunk and partying and one thing let to another. I love Casey, I do, I just. . .she was there, she’s hot and I thought I wanted freedom.
Casey freaked out. We had a horrible argument and he ended up very coldly telling me that he never wanted to see me again, then stormed out of the house.
I knew that words could hurt so much. ‘I never want to see you again.’ Those seven words have shattered me. I’ve become an emotional, melancholy, ‘oh my god, I’m so depressed, kill me, please’ person.
Case in point. The lights are dimmed and candles burn on the nightstand beside the bed and the dresser. I’m sitting on the bed, my back against the headboard. A small, rectangular box is balanced across my lap.
This box is my keepsake box. My grandmother gave it to me when I was a child. I haven’t had anything worth remembering to stick in there. . .until I started dating Casey. Now the box is filled with pictures I’ve taken of him. I’m not as good as he is, but at least the pictures are in focus. The box also contains notes he’s written me and left in my locker. They’re mostly just ‘I love you’ and hearts with our names in them, but they still make me smile.
I flip through the pictures and reread every single note. I hesitantly pick up the key ring I had made for him. I gave it to him for his birthday. It’s engraved ‘To Casey, with love, Zeke.’ I close my fist around the key ring and press my fist to my forehead.
I think. . .wait, that’s not right. . .I know I’ve made a mistake. I’m miserable without Casey. I can’t sleep, my appetite’s completely gone, I care about nothing. It still scares me to know how much I need him, how much I love him, but I’d do anything for a second chance. Anything.
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