Comin' Home (Original)
Title: Comin’ Home
Author: Lisa
Status: Completed One-shot
Rating: PG-16
Fandom: Un-named Original Verse
Pairing: Original
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: No way in hell could I look at those beautiful eyes of yours and watch the fire go out more and know I caused it.
Disclaimer: The characters and verse are all original and belong to me.
Distribution: Not without my permission.
AN: Written for your_verses for Prompt #16 “Comin’ Home” by City and Colour. Thanks to bashipforever for beta’ing the piece for me.
Deft fingers glided over the smooth black leather steering wheel as she guided the 2007 silver Cadillac CTS around the windy road. Large skyscrapers in the form of the Rocky Mountains protected the small valley and highway she was currently on. Their tops were peaked with fresh snow while the bases were a lush forest green.
Raising her leather-covered arm she ‘clicked’ the button by the rearview mirror and smiled slightly as the tinted sunroof silently rolled back allowing the warmth of the sun to beat down on her. The fresh mountain air filled her car with a scent that she was convinced was innocence and freedom with a lingering smell of pine. Her father took her down this highway when she was younger; she was eight and had just learned about the mountains in elementary. It was her passion for almost a year and in that time had managed to learn all the mountain ranges in the Rockies. Her father had been so proud that he’d taken her on a tour of the Rockies and every time she drove this highway she could hear his kind words that held such pride for his baby girl.
Her green eyes noticed her cell phone vibrating in the cup holder in the middle console. Lifting the phone up she quickly punched in some numbers before placing the cool metal against her ear.
“You have one new voicemail.”
"Hey." He paused, unsure as to whether he should leave this sort of thing on a message. "It's me," chuckling he ran a hand through his dark locks, "guess you knew that though."
Gripping the bottle of Scotch he poured the amber liquid into a crystal cocktail glass. “I can’t do this anymore.” He clenched his eyes closed. “I’m tired. Fuck! I’ve tried to understand but I’m done. You’re not the same woman I fell in love with.” He lifted the glass to his lips and as he took a pull; the liquor burning a trail down his throat. “I’ve tried to be supportive and work through this but… you can bring back the dead and a part of you died with him. The part that made you shine.”
Letting out a deep sigh he jutted out his hip against the kitchen counter. “I know I’m ass for doing this on a message, but ah… I’m too weak to do it to your face.” Smirking with pain he finished his drink before placed the ice-filled glass against his forehead trying to ease the throbbing headache. “No way in hell could I look at those beautiful eyes of yours and watch the fire go out more and know I caused it. I’ve always been weak, which I guess means you won’t be surprised by this message. Probably more surprised at how long it’s taken me.”
“I love you, always have. Always will.”
Her thumb hit the ‘seven’ button, erasing the message. Snapping the phone closed she tossed the offensive object onto the passenger seat in anger and watched as it bounced twice before sliding off and hitting the door panel.
“Shit.” Muttering under her breath she focused her eyes back on the road ahead. He was right, she wasn’t surprised to finally get the news he was leaving; she had just been hoping that he would hold on a little longer until she found out who killed her father.
Her boot encased foot slammed on the brakes and she turned the steering wheel rapidly. The squeal of the tires echoed in the valley while the smell of burning rubber destroyed the scent of pine and freedom as she turned the car around and headed back to where she had come from.
Reaching forward she unsnapped the glove box and pulled out her Glock. Gently she placed the weapon on her lap before her fingers reached out and grabbed the cell phone that was also stored in the glove box.
Quickly she scrolled through the phone list, smiling when she found the number she was looking for and hit ‘send’.
“Desmond.” His voice was deep with a slight British accent.
“It’s me, I need to see you.”
~fin~
Author: Lisa
Status: Completed One-shot
Rating: PG-16
Fandom: Un-named Original Verse
Pairing: Original
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary: No way in hell could I look at those beautiful eyes of yours and watch the fire go out more and know I caused it.
Disclaimer: The characters and verse are all original and belong to me.
Distribution: Not without my permission.
AN: Written for your_verses for Prompt #16 “Comin’ Home” by City and Colour. Thanks to bashipforever for beta’ing the piece for me.
Deft fingers glided over the smooth black leather steering wheel as she guided the 2007 silver Cadillac CTS around the windy road. Large skyscrapers in the form of the Rocky Mountains protected the small valley and highway she was currently on. Their tops were peaked with fresh snow while the bases were a lush forest green.
Raising her leather-covered arm she ‘clicked’ the button by the rearview mirror and smiled slightly as the tinted sunroof silently rolled back allowing the warmth of the sun to beat down on her. The fresh mountain air filled her car with a scent that she was convinced was innocence and freedom with a lingering smell of pine. Her father took her down this highway when she was younger; she was eight and had just learned about the mountains in elementary. It was her passion for almost a year and in that time had managed to learn all the mountain ranges in the Rockies. Her father had been so proud that he’d taken her on a tour of the Rockies and every time she drove this highway she could hear his kind words that held such pride for his baby girl.
Her green eyes noticed her cell phone vibrating in the cup holder in the middle console. Lifting the phone up she quickly punched in some numbers before placing the cool metal against her ear.
“You have one new voicemail.”
"Hey." He paused, unsure as to whether he should leave this sort of thing on a message. "It's me," chuckling he ran a hand through his dark locks, "guess you knew that though."
Gripping the bottle of Scotch he poured the amber liquid into a crystal cocktail glass. “I can’t do this anymore.” He clenched his eyes closed. “I’m tired. Fuck! I’ve tried to understand but I’m done. You’re not the same woman I fell in love with.” He lifted the glass to his lips and as he took a pull; the liquor burning a trail down his throat. “I’ve tried to be supportive and work through this but… you can bring back the dead and a part of you died with him. The part that made you shine.”
Letting out a deep sigh he jutted out his hip against the kitchen counter. “I know I’m ass for doing this on a message, but ah… I’m too weak to do it to your face.” Smirking with pain he finished his drink before placed the ice-filled glass against his forehead trying to ease the throbbing headache. “No way in hell could I look at those beautiful eyes of yours and watch the fire go out more and know I caused it. I’ve always been weak, which I guess means you won’t be surprised by this message. Probably more surprised at how long it’s taken me.”
“I love you, always have. Always will.”
Her thumb hit the ‘seven’ button, erasing the message. Snapping the phone closed she tossed the offensive object onto the passenger seat in anger and watched as it bounced twice before sliding off and hitting the door panel.
“Shit.” Muttering under her breath she focused her eyes back on the road ahead. He was right, she wasn’t surprised to finally get the news he was leaving; she had just been hoping that he would hold on a little longer until she found out who killed her father.
Her boot encased foot slammed on the brakes and she turned the steering wheel rapidly. The squeal of the tires echoed in the valley while the smell of burning rubber destroyed the scent of pine and freedom as she turned the car around and headed back to where she had come from.
Reaching forward she unsnapped the glove box and pulled out her Glock. Gently she placed the weapon on her lap before her fingers reached out and grabbed the cell phone that was also stored in the glove box.
Quickly she scrolled through the phone list, smiling when she found the number she was looking for and hit ‘send’.
“Desmond.” His voice was deep with a slight British accent.
“It’s me, I need to see you.”
~fin~