A Change of Heart (PG-13)
Title: A Change of Heart
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Real Person Ship
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Alona Tal
Word Count: 530
Warnings: Angst factor to the extreme.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I would squish them together and keep them there and never let her get married. Ever.
Summary: She's miserable on what should be the happiest day of her life. He hates it.
Notes: This is what happens when rogue_lane puts things in my head. Something might be in store for the person who gets the ending. ;)
Amazing artwork by quiet_rebel. Thanks so much!
----------
Hands open in her lap. Tears dripping to her palms. Stifling a quiet sob, Alona closes her eyes, preparing herself for what is to come. Trying desperately to forget the past. The love.
The pain.
She doesn't really know why she's here. Not when her heart remains in Texas.
A sound at the door. She scrambles to make herself decent, swiping at the tears still falling down her cheeks. Pale skin flushes white when she sees a familiar face in the doorway.
"Jensen."
What little breath she had locked inside flutters out.
"What happened, Al?"
That look. So vulnerable. So hurt.
She hates it.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"But? Come on," he steps into the room, "there's gotta be a but."
"Don't do this. Please."
Jensen stands, frozen, eyes locked on her forlorn features. Seeing her so obviously unhappy; eyes red from crying. Fingers entwined, tissue trapped between, thumb digging nervously into her palm. She's miserable on what should be the happiest day of her life. He hates it.
"I want to be with Marcos," she continues.
"That's not true," Jensen insists.
"Just believe me and let it go."
Let it go?
Let it go?
He knows he's right. Knows this isn't what she wants. He let her slip through his fingers once before. There's no way in hell he's doing it again.
"Alona, I love you!"
"Jensen, don’t," she pleads, tears already threatening to break free.
"Why are you doing this?"
She doesn't respond; just covers her mouth in a desperate attempt to block out the sobs ready to race through her body. He steps closer, arms instinctively wrapping around her fragile frame.
The knot twisting itself in her stomach jerks tighter, churning at the bile she prays will remain in her belly. Her cheek falls into that familiar spot against his shoulder. Comfort surges through her, dousing the fire burning up her insides.
It feels like home.
Safe.
No stress. No worry. No fear.
Just the two of them and the scent of his cologne and the fragrance of her perfume mingling to make the sweetest thing to ever reach her senses.
"You can tell me anything. You know that, right?" The bass of his voice sends a shiver all the way down to her toes.
She knows.
She pulls away, using the tissue to dry the corners of her eyes. "I made my decision."
Final. Resolute.
He listens deeply for a crack in her voice, anything to give him a ray of hope that he could grasp onto and pull himself out of this cloud of confusion.
Nothing. Not even a trace.
Damn, she's good.
She brushes past him, fingers ghosting down his sleeve.
He remains in place, eyes trailing after her, urging time to slow so he could memorize this moment. Burn it into the back of his mind. All of it. The missing bounce in her step. The lacking glow that normally radiates around her, even if only through his eyes.
Steps slow to a halt. Puffy eyes lock onto his one last time.
He doesn't understand the last thing he hears before she disappears beyond the door.
"Ani ohevet otcha."
*
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Real Person Ship
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/Alona Tal
Word Count: 530
Warnings: Angst factor to the extreme.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I would squish them together and keep them there and never let her get married. Ever.
Summary: She's miserable on what should be the happiest day of her life. He hates it.
Notes: This is what happens when rogue_lane puts things in my head. Something might be in store for the person who gets the ending. ;)
Amazing artwork by quiet_rebel. Thanks so much!
----------
Hands open in her lap. Tears dripping to her palms. Stifling a quiet sob, Alona closes her eyes, preparing herself for what is to come. Trying desperately to forget the past. The love.
The pain.
She doesn't really know why she's here. Not when her heart remains in Texas.
A sound at the door. She scrambles to make herself decent, swiping at the tears still falling down her cheeks. Pale skin flushes white when she sees a familiar face in the doorway.
"Jensen."
What little breath she had locked inside flutters out.
"What happened, Al?"
That look. So vulnerable. So hurt.
She hates it.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"But? Come on," he steps into the room, "there's gotta be a but."
"Don't do this. Please."
Jensen stands, frozen, eyes locked on her forlorn features. Seeing her so obviously unhappy; eyes red from crying. Fingers entwined, tissue trapped between, thumb digging nervously into her palm. She's miserable on what should be the happiest day of her life. He hates it.
"I want to be with Marcos," she continues.
"That's not true," Jensen insists.
"Just believe me and let it go."
Let it go?
Let it go?
He knows he's right. Knows this isn't what she wants. He let her slip through his fingers once before. There's no way in hell he's doing it again.
"Alona, I love you!"
"Jensen, don’t," she pleads, tears already threatening to break free.
"Why are you doing this?"
She doesn't respond; just covers her mouth in a desperate attempt to block out the sobs ready to race through her body. He steps closer, arms instinctively wrapping around her fragile frame.
The knot twisting itself in her stomach jerks tighter, churning at the bile she prays will remain in her belly. Her cheek falls into that familiar spot against his shoulder. Comfort surges through her, dousing the fire burning up her insides.
It feels like home.
Safe.
No stress. No worry. No fear.
Just the two of them and the scent of his cologne and the fragrance of her perfume mingling to make the sweetest thing to ever reach her senses.
"You can tell me anything. You know that, right?" The bass of his voice sends a shiver all the way down to her toes.
She knows.
She pulls away, using the tissue to dry the corners of her eyes. "I made my decision."
Final. Resolute.
He listens deeply for a crack in her voice, anything to give him a ray of hope that he could grasp onto and pull himself out of this cloud of confusion.
Nothing. Not even a trace.
Damn, she's good.
She brushes past him, fingers ghosting down his sleeve.
He remains in place, eyes trailing after her, urging time to slow so he could memorize this moment. Burn it into the back of his mind. All of it. The missing bounce in her step. The lacking glow that normally radiates around her, even if only through his eyes.
Steps slow to a halt. Puffy eyes lock onto his one last time.
He doesn't understand the last thing he hears before she disappears beyond the door.
"Ani ohevet otcha."
*