Glass Kisses

[Louise_2983]

Title: Glass Kisses

Type of story: One shot

Main Characters: Nicole and Geoff

BTTB rating: A

Genre: Angst, Romance

Does story include spoilers: No.

Any warnings: References to death

Summary: When Roman Harris tragically died in a fire shortly after beginning his prison sentence, his daughter's life spiralled out of control. Years later a similar event brings back haunting memories and tempts her to seek solace in an old habit.

The young, attractive blonde sits beside the bar distractedly playing with her drink, not a drop having yet passed her expertly applied red lips. Cautiously, so as not to spill any, she swirls the blood red liquid around her glass, creating the effect of a tiny whirlpool. She stares into it, subconsciously wishing that it would swallow her whole so she doesn’t have to put on this act for a minute longer. More often than she would like men approach her like hungry predators searching out their prey, offering her a drink or a dance but she always refuses safe in the knowledge that they are actually offering her a lot more. He watches her from the corner of the room, praying that he won’t have to intervene. She has no idea that he has followed her but he remembers where she turned all those years ago and he isn’t going to let her do it again. If he has to drag her out of here kicking and screaming then so be it, he can‘t watch her fall apart again.

She’s crying now. He can see the tiny tears glistening in the light as they travel slowly down her cheeks. He fights an overwhelming urge to hold her in his arms as though he’s fighting for his life. And in a way he is, but he can no longer ignore the tiny inkling deep down inside that he’s fighting for a life he has no desire to live. He watches as one man approaches her for another go.

“You all right love?”. He screams inside at the ludicrous question. Of course she’s not all right, anyone with half a brain could see that. He couldn’t bear the thought of this man comforting her or of her crying on anybody’s shoulder but his own. It was destroying him, almost ripping his heart out every single time she even spoke to another man, if she left with this one then he may as well throw it into her path as they went and let her walk all over it in those sharp stiletto heels. It wouldn’t be the first time after all.

She shoo’s him away mumbling some feeble “women’s problems” excuse sure to remove any men within a five mile radius and picks up her handbag ready to leave. But something draws her to the full glass still resting, invitingly on the bar. She reaches out and shakily cups her hand around it but as she begins to lift a hand stronger than her own grasps the top of the glass and forces it back towards the bar. As the glass makes contact with the wood once again, the now warm liquid spills over the sides, splashing the dark mahogany before dripping slowly downwards, like crimson tears flowing from an emotional eye.

“Don’t even think about it” he tells her sternly.

“What do you care?” she snaps back, her words full of pure venom as anger pulsates through her veins. He doesn’t care about her so what gives him the right to start interfering with her life?

“Of course I care you’re my . . .” he pauses struggling for an appropriate word to complete his sentence.

“Past. I’m your past. As in finished, over, done.”

“Would I be here if I didn’t care?” he persists.

“We’re in a bar, you’re probably here picking up your latest conquest, nothing to do with me.” she tells him picking up the glass and raising it to her lips. Quickly he places his hand around her wrist but

not tightly enough to restrict movement or hurt her.

“Please don’t do this” he pleads “Please”. She stops, gazing into his eyes, he means it she knows he does but right now she needs to erase the pain and alcohol’s the only thing she’s ever found that

comes close to working. But this is him asking and no matter how much she wants to she just can’t say no. Slowly she lowers the glass and as it makes contact with the bar a small smile plays on his lips.

“Come on” he tells her “Let’s get out of here”. And as they leave the eyes of numerous men enviously follow them as they wonder just what it is that he has and they don’t.

* * *

She nurses the warm, full coffee cup in her slightly trembling hands, allowing the rich aroma to tenderly caress her nostrils before taking the tiniest of sips. She enjoys the stinging, painful sensation as the hot liquid burns her tender lips and effortlessly glides down her throat. For anything is better than the numbness which consumes her inside. The modern café is bustling with intellectual and arty

types left over from the poetry reading earlier that evening but she is oblivious to their presence. All she is aware of are his big, beautiful eyes gazing at her from across the table, peeking out from

above the huge coffee cup he embraces. She feels emotionally naked as though he’s staring straight into her soul, straight into her heart. A place she can never allow him to see. For it remains

shattered, in thousands of tiny pieces, exactly the way he left it the last time she let him in. They sit in silence for what feels like forever neither one of them wanting to be the one to break the

temporary truce which lingers uncomfortably between them.

“Thank you” she finally gives in.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. . .Yes . . . Oh I don’t know” she confesses as confusion takes over her entire body. “I guess you heard about what happened?”

“Heard? I saw it Nic”

“I always wanted to be famous” she allows herself to grin and when he mirrors her gesture she almost melts. “It just brought everything back you know?”

“I know” he assures her allowing his hand to brush hers as he lowers his cup to the table. She recoils hers quickly, desperately attempting to deny the electricity she knows he felt too. Disappointment

flashes across his eyes but just as quickly it disappears again as he hides his pain away.

“I thought I was over it but I just couldn’t help it”

“That’s understandable. He was your Dad. It’s not something you can ever completely get over”.

“When I saw it on the news, all those relatives scared and helpless I knew exactly how they felt. All I wanted to do was sit there and cry until it all went away but instead I had to present the weather

with this false smile painted across my face, harping on about how sunny it was going to be. I know that it’s never going to go away so I tried. I tried so hard to keep it all together. But when I heard

people complaining about how much it was going to cost to rebuild that prison it was like something snapped inside of me and I just couldn’t help it Live on air Geoff! Now it looks like I’m going to get the

sack ”

“They won’t sack you”

“You reckon?” she asks doubtfully.

“I’m sure if you explained, they’d understand”

“I’m not telling them. You have no idea what it’s like. When people know they look at you differently, like you’re a different person because you lost someone you loved. And the picture they paint of

him, like he’s a hero because he died saving a female prison guard. Yes he did and I’m so proud of him for that but that’s only part of who he was. He wasn’t perfect by any means. He could be selfish,

arrogant and so damn annoying. He wasn’t around for most of my life and he let me down. Apart from one year of my life, all he ever did was leave me. He was my Dad Geoff and I loved him but they

didn’t know him and they can never understand. I don’t want or need their sympathy.“

“But maybe you need their help” he dares to suggest.

“If you hadn’t turned up I would have drunk it you know” she confesses.

“Why do you think I followed you?”

“I don’t want to go back there it just seemed such a natural reaction. But it didn‘t help the last time and I know it won‘t now”

“Promise me something?”

“Go on . . .”

“Go to a meeting?”

“I’m not eighteen anymore I don’t need to it was just today, it was all too much”

“Please. Even if it’s just the once so you can prove me wrong. I just can’t watch you go through all that again”.

“OK”

“OK what?”

“OK I promise” she grins.

“Thank you”.

“You’re welcome” she laughs.

“What’s so funny?”.

“Us. Being civil. We’re usually too busy sparring”

“We wouldn’t fight if we didn’t care”

“And do you?” she asks briefly allowing a flicker of hope to enter her heart.

“Do I what?” he feigns ignorance.

“Care?” she says staring into her coffee cup, too afraid of his answer to maintain eye contact. If she’s honest she’s more afraid of him admitting that he does care than confirming that he doesn’t. For

she’s already learnt to live with heartbreak but trying to salvage the remains of their relationship would be a whole different ball game.

“Do you?” she sighs. She always hated it when he did that. Answered a question with another one. He hadn’t changed. And she loved him all the more for it.

“I asked first” she’s not letting him get away with it that easily. Now it’s his turn to stare into his coffee cup as he summons up the courage to take this conversation in the direction he wants it to.

“Yes” he tells her, reaching out his hand towards hers and gently allowing the tips of his fingers to make contact with the tips of hers. This time she doesn’t pull away as he raises his head and gazes into

her eyes before continuing. “I care. I care a lot”.

“Where did we go so wrong?” she sighs maintaining eye contact.

“I seem to remember that mostly being my fault”

“Well now that you mention it” she teases a small smile playing on her lips.

“Oiy!” he laughs “You weren’t meant to agree!”

“Ooops” she playfully mocks him.

“Seriously, I never gave you much reason to trust me. I let playing pro footie and all the fame that comes with it go to my head and change me. All those clubs, the drink, the women. All desperate for a

kiss and tell story to feed the tabloids. I swear to you I never slept with her, every word of it was lies”.

“Every word?”

“Well maybe not every word, she did come back to my room but I didn’t sleep with her, all I could think about was you”

“And is that meant to make me feel better?”

“No. No, Of course not. I was completely in the wrong. And I know it’s no excuse but I was so wrapped up in the lifestyle and all you ever talked about was babies and ovulation charts. I felt trapped but

I never stopped loving you not for one minute. I just got lost somewhere along the way”

“You’re right it is no excuse.” she tells him sternly “But I guess towards the end I did become a little bit obsessed with having a baby.”

“A little bit?”

“OK a lot. But you had this great career and already I was being told that my “look” wasn’t in anymore, that I needed to lose a few pounds, ahem stone, and maybe catalogue modelling would suit me

better. My career was over before it’d started and I needed something, anything to make me feel worthwhile so I latched onto the idea of having a baby”

“Why didn’t we ever think of just talking to each other?”

“Because we’re both way too stubborn for our own good” she smiled.

“Too stubborn to ever make it work?” he looked at her hopefully.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“I love you” just saying the words felt like a huge weight was being lifted from his shoulders.

“I love you too”. He edges closer, leaning across the table and she knows what’s coming next. He’s going to kiss her. She wonders if it will be the same. If her stomach will still do somersaults, if her

knees will buckle, if her heart will pound so hard that she will fear it’s going to explode any minute. But just seconds before his lips are due to make contact with hers she abruptly turns her head so all

he gets is a mouthful of silky blonde hair and blusher. “Don’t . . .please”

“I’m sorry . . .I thought . . .”

“I love you. I do but . . .but it’s going to take a long time to get it back. If we ever can get it back . . .”

“I don’t want it back” her heart sinks, surely he doesn’t want to call the whole thing off over one kiss? “I’ve changed, you’ve changed and this time it’s going to be so much stronger. So strong that

nothing’s ever going to break us”

“I hope not” she tells him entwining her fingers with his and squeezing his hand. “So . . .”

“So. . .” he echoes with a smile.

“I’ve got tickets for a fashion show tomorrow night, I understand if it’s not you thing bu-”

“Are you asking me out?” he teases “On a date?”

“I guess I am” she smiles “That’s if you’re not too busy”.

“I’ll have to check my diary first of course”

“Of course” she laughs and that smile, that laugh, those beautiful eyes lit up with happiness make him fall in love with her all over again. Silence reigns between them for a few minutes as they absorb

every single detail of each other, details they have loved for years, yet details they somehow managed to forget . Or at least to deny.

“Break my heart again and the damage will be a whole lot worse than a few scratches on your precious car.”

“I always knew that was you” he feigns disapproval.

“I was angry”

“So was I when I saw the state of my car!” he laughs.

“A respray was hardly going to break the bank, whereas you owe my a fortune in Hagan Daz”

“Hagan daz?”

“Comfort food.”

“Ahh, thought you were carrying a bit extra around the middle these days” he teases.

“Oiy!” she slaps him playfully before placing a hand over her midriff “Do you really think so?” she asks half seriously.

“Oh shut up, you know you’re gorgeous”.

“You’re not so bad yourself” she grins as he tenderly cups her face in his hands before placing the most delicate of kisses on her smooth lips. This time she doesn’t pull away, instead she loses herself in

his gentle touch, as though no time has passed and she’s seventeen again. Completely besotted. Affectionately he traces a line of fragile kisses down her hand as though she’s made of glass and he’s scared she’ll break any minute.

“Don’t go again” he pleads as he stares deep into her eyes, into her soul, into her heart.

“No” she shakes her head remembering the pain she had felt as she’d left that morning, without even a parting word she’d fled, humiliated and heartbroken. She wouldn’t let that happen again. And neither, she now believed, would he.

“Promise?”

“I’ll do my best” she replies nonchalantly before pulling him to his feet and heading out into the cold night air. Casually he wraps his arm around her bare shoulders and she leans into him, feeling a million miles away from where she had been a few hours ago, As laughing and joking they stroll down the tiny street, oblivious to the party goers passing them by, a solitary star shoots across the dark night sky and despite the tragedy they had witnessed that day, in their hearts hope lived on. [Eternally.

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