William turned around, as she opened the door.
Her name left his lips softly, "Aaron? I didn't think you'd come."
She responded. "I didn't either." Her lips parted to ad more, but whatever she was planning to say or do was erased from memory as he embraced her.
Just one last time, she thought, laying her head against his neck.
They didn't say anything.
He felt her shoulder's begin to shake, asking nothing, he held her tighter.
There they stood. Complete opposites.
Warmth and Chill.
Dark and Light.
She was tiny. She had large lollipop grey eyes, a pair of small but plump lips and a small upturned nose. Her hair was long and wavy platinum blonde, nearly as pale as her skin.
He was tall. His skin was naturally tanned, his eyes were warm and brown. His hair was long and black, in a crazy rock star cut.
One thing they shared in appearances was that they were both beautiful.
Classy and Crazy.
He buried his nose in her hair, taking in the smell of it. His voice murmured into her ear, "I love you."
Her stomach lurched. And the shaking ensued.
He told her again, along with just how glad he was that she had come to his concert- his very first one where his band would be the star attraction.
She started hiccupping as she told him, "I-I have to go...."
His head lifted and he glanced into her eyes. She knew that if she looked back she would do anything he wanted, so she put her face back to his neck. His voice hurt her more than he'd ever know. "What? I'm not going to the party! Please stay!"
Finally, she was able to step away. But he moved back to her, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Her eyes were avoiding him, and he knew it. She muttered, "I love you too." Before she fled the room, leaving him standing there in the clothes he had worn to his previous hit concert.
Just then, he realized that his neck was wet.
The next morning, Aaron climbed into the taxi, a tall and strong stranger climbing in next to her. The cab driver was loud and annoying, but his passengers determined silence drew him to turning on the radio.
A female voice on the radio raved, "Oh.My.God! 'Buried' was so amazing at that concert that night! Will just makes me want to jump up on stage and kiss him! Now here's my favorite song from them, and apparently, America's too."
Her talking gave way to the heavy sounds of a guitar playing. Aaron's heart stopped- she knew these notes, this tune- and sure enough William's voice filled the car.
'She's just that girl....
The one worth the world..'
Aaron choked out, "Turn it off."
The driver complained, "C'mon, lady! It's my favorite song!" Hers too.
"Just do it," the passenger next to her commanded, his deep voice gravely in the driver's ear. The driver turned off the radio- complaining the entire time- and only then did the man sitting next to Aaron settle back into his quiet staid.
It had been months, weeks, days.
Time didn't matter.
Little did.
William preformed at the concerts that were selected by his band- Buried- but he had lost all passion to do so. He hadn't even seen her in all that time.
Instead of surrounding himself with Aaron, as he once had, he began to indulge himself in alcohol. He never dated though.
He was doing a photo shoot with the band, in the appearance of a common graffitied street. His back was pressed against the cold and rough wall when he saw her.
He saw the flash of hair and then her eyes. Those eyes....
She was yanked away from his vision as a huge man tapped her shoulder. She disappeared.
The look of a lost heart swam into his gaze just as the camera snapped the picture. The man in charge of the shoot snapped, "Shit! I was going for pissed not sad!"
The designer argued however, he thought that the fans would love the picture.
They did.
One night, drowning everything out with the vodka, Will found himself on the floor of his living room. His gaze, his head, everything. It was all swimming, unfocused.
Suddenly, soft hands lifted his head up and placed it on something soft.
His eyes opened, and even in the darkness he could see that it was her.
"Aaron?" Too good to be true, way too good.
She shushed his words, brushing his long and messy hair out of his face.
Tears burned.
They were liquid, yet they still burned.
And they stung as Aaron tried to keep them in her eyes.
Not working.
She drew her fingers across his face, gently closing his eyes.
Too hard, just too hard.
Her very breathing shook, but her hand remained steady as it stroked the skin on his face.
The other hand reached down and grabbed his.
His much harder and longer fingers rubbed her own, not letting her go.
He fell asleep, his head in her lap.
She left.
Again.
Aaron was violently lurching as she emptied her stomach onto the sidewalk.
Her ever-present crony rubbed her back gently, murmuring, "It'll get easier. It will."
How stupid was he? Didn't he see? It would never get easier.
It never would.
When Will woke up, he smelled her around him.
She had been here!
It wasn't just an over-hopeful dream.
She isn't here anymore...
And he had lost her all over again.
Finally, the pain from his hangover settled in.
Another drunk night.
Aaron's visit had just encouraged him to drink.
He took it all in, all of it. The burning liquid- true to it's reputation- seared down his throat. And he stumbled into the kitchen, the cup in his hand crashing to the floor with him.
His eyes watered, not from the shard of glass digging into his palm, but of the absence.
The sadness turned to fear as his apartment door slid open.
Will may be a drunk, but he wasn't a stupid one.
He picked up a pan that his sister had jokingly given him for Christmas. Holding it like a weapon, he crept silently to the front door. Heavy footsteps padded down the carpeted floor.
Will paused, and swung.
The pan was dented as it came into contact with a huge object.
Someone swore, and Will's fist collided with the man's face. A hand grabbed Will's arm, holding it straight. Attacking the man once more, they finally fought back.
What felt like a Semi-truck plowed through his stomach, and Will flew backwards.
His head hit the glass cupboard, and several cups shattered around him, cutting him up as he slouched on top of the counter.
Next he was being carried somewhere.
Darkness for a long time.
And then, he was brought into a room full of light.
The heavy fog settled over him lifted slightly as he saw something resembling an angel race over to him, her golden hair sparkling.
"Will!" A very familiar voice cried. She then complained to the large men about hurting him. They apologized humbly.
"Aaron," he said weakly, it was hurting him.
"Shh," she murmured, "Just let me hold you."
He did.
And finally things were just the way that they were supposed to be.
They were together.
