unwavering like metronome heartbeats
unwavering like metronome heartbeats
clay/elena. r. 434.
Because in the morning, she'll wake up and hate that it ever happened. Too bad every one of his touches is just another whispered I love you.
...so it's a canon couple. maybe i just have to write them to get it out of my system, because honestly, bitten was pretty much all about clay/elena. but ahh, they're one of the best-written canon couples ever. i legit cried when clay was all ~worried~ after the parking lot scene with cain. okay. rant over. here's your fic.
Don't forget! she had told him, laughing. I'll be there first thing in the morning. I don't want to walk in on a naked girl in your bed.
He had smiled, but only a little. You don't have to worry about that.
---
He stares at his palms. They're smooth, but isn't that a lie? Doesn't he walk on these hands all the time, snapping branches and crunching leaves as he sprints through the darkness?
He raises his arms and traces along the edges of his face. Utterly human. Where is his werewolf nose that can smell anything? Where are his werewolf teeth?
Nothing about him gives even a hint about his secret. No wonder she feels so betrayed.
He aches to be around her, to make her understand. But he isn't sure that she won't try and kill him. She has that right, he thinks bitterly, and closes his fingers into a fist.
---
"I don't regret biting Elena."
He is staring at himself in the mirror, trying to read his own expression. It's hard; he's been blank, lately. Too caught up in memories.
"I don't regret biting Elena."
His mouth is moving, but he can't tell who's speaking. At first, he's sure it's the old Clay, who had to face the fact that he could never really have a human. But it could also be the older Clay, who was taught that humans weren't worth having at all.
The new Clay knows: He lost her, anyway.
---
"They told me," she says, when he walks into her room. (He knocked. She let him in.)
"What?"
"You...told them about Christmas."
"I know you love it, Elena," he says.
---
It's late that night, and everyone else has gone to bed. But Elena and Clay are not inside.
"Fuck," she whispers, completely gone, spinning in her own world of pleasure.
When she comes down, she's too tired to do anything but sleep. He, on the other hand, can't do anything but watch her breathe.
Why do you do this to me?
Because in the morning, she'll wake up and hate that it ever happened. Too bad every one of his touches is just another whispered I love you.
---
He wants to believe that she keeps coming back for him.
That oh-so-adorable voice in his head says: Well, yeah.
---
She's alive.
Oh God, she's alive.
The fucker would have killed her, would have shot her right through the forehead or through the heart without even thinking about it, without caring about the people who love her, he never would have seen her again or held her again and he wraps himself around her and doesn't ever, ever want to let go.
---
Love me love me love me.
He has never touched anyone else but her.
*
clay/elena. r. 434.
Because in the morning, she'll wake up and hate that it ever happened. Too bad every one of his touches is just another whispered I love you.
...so it's a canon couple. maybe i just have to write them to get it out of my system, because honestly, bitten was pretty much all about clay/elena. but ahh, they're one of the best-written canon couples ever. i legit cried when clay was all ~worried~ after the parking lot scene with cain. okay. rant over. here's your fic.
Don't forget! she had told him, laughing. I'll be there first thing in the morning. I don't want to walk in on a naked girl in your bed.
He had smiled, but only a little. You don't have to worry about that.
---
He stares at his palms. They're smooth, but isn't that a lie? Doesn't he walk on these hands all the time, snapping branches and crunching leaves as he sprints through the darkness?
He raises his arms and traces along the edges of his face. Utterly human. Where is his werewolf nose that can smell anything? Where are his werewolf teeth?
Nothing about him gives even a hint about his secret. No wonder she feels so betrayed.
He aches to be around her, to make her understand. But he isn't sure that she won't try and kill him. She has that right, he thinks bitterly, and closes his fingers into a fist.
---
"I don't regret biting Elena."
He is staring at himself in the mirror, trying to read his own expression. It's hard; he's been blank, lately. Too caught up in memories.
"I don't regret biting Elena."
His mouth is moving, but he can't tell who's speaking. At first, he's sure it's the old Clay, who had to face the fact that he could never really have a human. But it could also be the older Clay, who was taught that humans weren't worth having at all.
The new Clay knows: He lost her, anyway.
---
"They told me," she says, when he walks into her room. (He knocked. She let him in.)
"What?"
"You...told them about Christmas."
"I know you love it, Elena," he says.
---
It's late that night, and everyone else has gone to bed. But Elena and Clay are not inside.
"Fuck," she whispers, completely gone, spinning in her own world of pleasure.
When she comes down, she's too tired to do anything but sleep. He, on the other hand, can't do anything but watch her breathe.
Why do you do this to me?
Because in the morning, she'll wake up and hate that it ever happened. Too bad every one of his touches is just another whispered I love you.
---
He wants to believe that she keeps coming back for him.
That oh-so-adorable voice in his head says: Well, yeah.
---
She's alive.
Oh God, she's alive.
The fucker would have killed her, would have shot her right through the forehead or through the heart without even thinking about it, without caring about the people who love her, he never would have seen her again or held her again and he wraps himself around her and doesn't ever, ever want to let go.
---
Love me love me love me.
He has never touched anyone else but her.
*