Table Opposites: Strangers
Table Opposites
Fandom: Misfits
Pairing: Simon/Alisha
8. Strangers
It's not exactly like they thought it would be. It's not easy -they don't know each other that well, after all- living together, but they try. He has his insects and the computer and that way of organizing everything and keeping it neat; she's messy and wild and likes to live her life, without rules or timetables, without an order. They can't agree on anything, really -except, maybe, in the thought that moving together was a bad idea. It's difficult to make the flat comfortable for both of them -even more difficult because there's a third presence there, one that doesn't fade, one that neither would aknowledge, at least not out loud.
The first few days they argue. About anything, about the tiniest things -like how he's been messing with her things and the way she leaves her clothes on the floor. It's mostly Alisha who shouts, because Simon is no good at that kind of things, but he answers, flustered and stuttering, he answers and he's full of rage and he strikes, goes for the weakest point.
You don't want me here, he says, one night. She starts to cry.
After that, there's a few days of silence, of not wanting to see each other -of not being able to avoid the other forever. They're living in the same space, sleeping on the same bed, and she wants nothing more than to get out of there. Fast.
She calls Chloe because she doesn't want to go out with Kelly -because the blonde will remind her too much of the guy she's left behind, at home, the guy she doesn't want to think about. So she goes out with her old friend, only she isn't really a friend anymore; just some stranger -and it's not her fault, because it's Alisha who has changed.
They go to a pub, one she used to know like her own house -even better. They look for some nice-looking guys, someone to get them a drink, and Chloe points to a couple -they look sweet, like they've been made for each other. She's short and not too ugly, and he's god an amazing body -if nothing else.
Hey, look at them, says her friend. I bet he'll follow any of us to the end of the world just to get a quick shag, she ads, laughing, and Alisha thinks that's not funny -and, besides, why would he go with any of them, when his girlfriend's there.
Let's go, okay?, she says, and points on another direction. They're alone, you see?
But Chloe just rolls her eyes before looking at her mockingly. They're easy, Lisha. We want something difficult, remember? And, before she can stop her, Chlo has gone to the couple, started to talk to the guy, and something inside Alisha is aching. He can't do this, he can't do this to her, she pleads, and doesn't know why. Maybe because she's changed. Because she wants something different, something else.
Maybe because she now doesn't want sex; she wants love. And it feels weird, not being on Chloe's side anymore, and it feels even weirder being so disappointed when he double-checks her friend, even if he doesn't follow her like she said he would. She can relate to the girl there, to the hate in her eyes; she's felt it before. And she doesn't like it, and she'd give anything to forget it, go back to who she was before everything. Not to feel. Not to hurt.
She comes home a bit drunk and a bit depressed, she comes home and expects -hopes- to find him asleep, to be able to go to bed without talking or even seeing him. But luck's never been on her side, and Simon's on the sofa, watching some freak sci-fi film, maybe, or a series or even some home-made videos she sure as hell doesn't want to know about. He's fully awake and weirdly tense, and doesn't look away from the TV -but she knows he's heard her.
Hi, she says, and tries to go to bed. Nothing else, really; she's not in the mood for anything.
But it's so difficult to avoid each other in a flat with no rooms, really. It's so fucking difficult not to look in his direction, waiting for him to say something, anything, and start another argument and maybe fuck it all again.
He doesn't.
Hi, he says; then nothing. And suddenly Alisha wishes he would do it, shout and scream and break everything. Suddenly she wishes he would aknowledge her with something more than that.
Fuck you, she hisses. Fuck you, Simon. And then he's risen, he's walking right to her and he has that expression, the one that says I don't understand you, but I'm trying. Hard.
What's happened?, he asks, the same tone he always uses. Concerned, frightened -he's afraid of her, sometimes, and that hurts.
Nothing. Nothing, it's just - She doesn't know how to finish the sentence. She doesn't know what she wants to say, to do, what she wishes will happen right now. She doesn't know herself anymore, just as she doesn't really know him. Just - I do want you here, you know?
And he nods, and suddenly he's hugging her -carefully, trying not to touch her skin at all-, and he may be a bit of a stranger, but she's starting to know him.
Fandom: Misfits
Pairing: Simon/Alisha
8. Strangers
It's not exactly like they thought it would be. It's not easy -they don't know each other that well, after all- living together, but they try. He has his insects and the computer and that way of organizing everything and keeping it neat; she's messy and wild and likes to live her life, without rules or timetables, without an order. They can't agree on anything, really -except, maybe, in the thought that moving together was a bad idea. It's difficult to make the flat comfortable for both of them -even more difficult because there's a third presence there, one that doesn't fade, one that neither would aknowledge, at least not out loud.
The first few days they argue. About anything, about the tiniest things -like how he's been messing with her things and the way she leaves her clothes on the floor. It's mostly Alisha who shouts, because Simon is no good at that kind of things, but he answers, flustered and stuttering, he answers and he's full of rage and he strikes, goes for the weakest point.
You don't want me here, he says, one night. She starts to cry.
After that, there's a few days of silence, of not wanting to see each other -of not being able to avoid the other forever. They're living in the same space, sleeping on the same bed, and she wants nothing more than to get out of there. Fast.
She calls Chloe because she doesn't want to go out with Kelly -because the blonde will remind her too much of the guy she's left behind, at home, the guy she doesn't want to think about. So she goes out with her old friend, only she isn't really a friend anymore; just some stranger -and it's not her fault, because it's Alisha who has changed.
They go to a pub, one she used to know like her own house -even better. They look for some nice-looking guys, someone to get them a drink, and Chloe points to a couple -they look sweet, like they've been made for each other. She's short and not too ugly, and he's god an amazing body -if nothing else.
Hey, look at them, says her friend. I bet he'll follow any of us to the end of the world just to get a quick shag, she ads, laughing, and Alisha thinks that's not funny -and, besides, why would he go with any of them, when his girlfriend's there.
Let's go, okay?, she says, and points on another direction. They're alone, you see?
But Chloe just rolls her eyes before looking at her mockingly. They're easy, Lisha. We want something difficult, remember? And, before she can stop her, Chlo has gone to the couple, started to talk to the guy, and something inside Alisha is aching. He can't do this, he can't do this to her, she pleads, and doesn't know why. Maybe because she's changed. Because she wants something different, something else.
Maybe because she now doesn't want sex; she wants love. And it feels weird, not being on Chloe's side anymore, and it feels even weirder being so disappointed when he double-checks her friend, even if he doesn't follow her like she said he would. She can relate to the girl there, to the hate in her eyes; she's felt it before. And she doesn't like it, and she'd give anything to forget it, go back to who she was before everything. Not to feel. Not to hurt.
She comes home a bit drunk and a bit depressed, she comes home and expects -hopes- to find him asleep, to be able to go to bed without talking or even seeing him. But luck's never been on her side, and Simon's on the sofa, watching some freak sci-fi film, maybe, or a series or even some home-made videos she sure as hell doesn't want to know about. He's fully awake and weirdly tense, and doesn't look away from the TV -but she knows he's heard her.
Hi, she says, and tries to go to bed. Nothing else, really; she's not in the mood for anything.
But it's so difficult to avoid each other in a flat with no rooms, really. It's so fucking difficult not to look in his direction, waiting for him to say something, anything, and start another argument and maybe fuck it all again.
He doesn't.
Hi, he says; then nothing. And suddenly Alisha wishes he would do it, shout and scream and break everything. Suddenly she wishes he would aknowledge her with something more than that.
Fuck you, she hisses. Fuck you, Simon. And then he's risen, he's walking right to her and he has that expression, the one that says I don't understand you, but I'm trying. Hard.
What's happened?, he asks, the same tone he always uses. Concerned, frightened -he's afraid of her, sometimes, and that hurts.
Nothing. Nothing, it's just - She doesn't know how to finish the sentence. She doesn't know what she wants to say, to do, what she wishes will happen right now. She doesn't know herself anymore, just as she doesn't really know him. Just - I do want you here, you know?
And he nods, and suddenly he's hugging her -carefully, trying not to touch her skin at all-, and he may be a bit of a stranger, but she's starting to know him.