Name: Every Time Around
Author: Erin (rogerschica)
Rating: Erhm... PG? I guess?
Summary: Benny heads up to Mimi's apartment to fix her shower and... stuff happens.
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Jonathan Larson's estate and song lyrics are property of Adam Pascal. So, basically, nothing's actually mine.
Every time around I come down with the same intention
I'm staring up at the depressing brick building, making sure my breathing's regular and not spazzy before I go inside. She'll never know what she still does to me, because I'll never let her know, but if I had hair, I'd be smoothing it down right now. As it is, I take one more look at my reflection in the side of my shiny new car, undo my suit jacket buttons and untuck my shirt, before pulling the outer door open. There. She'll be more comfortable if I look more comfortable... I think.
I can't help but laugh at myself as I stampede up the stairs. I second-guess myself like this every time.
And break into a smile at the thought I don't dare to mention
She pulls the apartment door open, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a pair of sweatpants and an old tank top. But then she always looks gorgeous. Her eyes widen, but she motions me in sweetly, like every time. "Hey. You got here fast."
"You need a working shower." I shrug, as her eyes start to sparkle. We're both thinking of the last time her water cut out-- and we were "forced" to spend hours naked together while I figured out how to fix it. My lips are starting to twitch, but neither of us says anything. We can't go there again. "I was in the neighbourhood anyway."
A solitary dreamer been meaning to make it outside
I try not to stare at her body as she digs around in a box, looking for the tools I left here months ago. I manage not to sigh when her fingers brush against mine when she hands them to me. I don't even protest when she slides a finger over my shoulder blades and very nearly purrs that she's going to go pick out her outfit while I fix the shower, she's "got a real job interview today... like for a real job". But I do let the touch send me back to our last afternoon in here after she leaves me alone.
But sitting here alone, I don't risk yet another blind side.
It was hot, still summer really, almost too hot. Which is why we were hanging out in the shower-- you could almost forget how depressing Avenue A is in the summer. When the sun's so bright you can see every piece of crap littering the streets. And then the water cut out and she danced around and sang me songs from all the Broadway shows she dreamed of seeing one day and I sweat off every soap sud design she had painted on my body.
And then two weeks later, she broke it off. No warning. Never took my calls. So I proposed to Ali-- a girl I've know since kindergarten but who never sent sparks flying through me. I pretty much love her though.
So I shouldn't be so nervous and I shouldn't let Mimi touch me. I can't be strong around her.
And then, oh, once in awhile, I make a breakout.
Or maybe I can be. I finish on the shower and wipe off my hands on one of the black towels she always bought. She liked black because her mascara couldn't wreck it.
I shouldn't know that.
And I should stop running back here every time she sees a spider or her faucet drips a little.
So, it's decided. I'll be strong. "Mimi, I've gotta head out. Your shower's all fixed up."
Always under fire, but I never mind the end
She flounces out of her bedroom in a little suit that she must have borrowed from someone, with a little pout on her face. "I sorta hoped you would help choose my outfit."
Oh Jesus. Davis is gonna kill me. Ali's gonna kill me. I'm gonna kill me.
Every time around you don't make a sound
"Mimi... really, I've got to..." My breathing is doing it's spazzy thing (as she would call it) as she's suddenly very close to me and her hands are on my waist. "Get Davis to help you."
Her eyes are sparkling again, but this time it's with tears. She doesn't say anything, just sits down heavily on the couch, and she doesn't need to. I get it.
Every time around is a chance to love her
They're fighting again. Just like every time she calls, I shoulda known.
They fight, he throws her out and she calls me to take her away from it all while pretending she just needs me to fix some menial thing. Conveniently forgetting all about Ali or the September day she threw me out.
The worst part is-- I always almost do take her away.
Dreaming far away, every time around.
We both know I can't. And I know this is the last time I can let it get this close.
She's crying on the couch and I force myself to push away my need to take her in my arms. Instead, I kiss her forehead, then tuck my shirt back in and do back up the buttons on my suit jacket. "I really gotta go, Meems."
She doesn't get it. I've never got this much of a backbone, I'm always too busy pretending she still loves me. "Look, whatever you and Davis fought about, you know he didn't mean it. It's just macho rockstar shit. Go upstairs and make him apologize-- you love each other. I gotta go."
She stares at me and I walk out and my heart breaks a little more on each step. Even though I tell it not to.
See, it's only love, god, it's only love...