Tell Me - Part 7
Title: Tell Me
Fandom: McFly
Pairing: PoynterJudd
Rating: 12
Part: 7/8
Word Count: 1,177
Summary: Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,
One without a permanent scar,
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there
I look up upon hearing his words, hardly daring to believe it. Our gaze meets for the first time and I realise there is nothing in those eyes to be scared of at all - they are the same eyes that they’ve always been.
But looking into them still manages to break my heart all over again, because the truth is I can’t believe it. Suddenly I find myself laughing, a bitter laugh, a disbelieving one. He’d been off travelling the world and having the time of his life, how could he have missed me?
I don’t want to tell him any of this, but before I know it my thoughts aren’t just in my head, they are pouring out of my mouth, too. I’m telling him that I don’t believe he wants me, that I don’t believe I can compare to the wonders of the world, and that I think five years is too long to suddenly decide he needs me.
He stares as me for a while, stunned, whether by what I said or because this angry expression of rage and jealousy is so sudden I don’t know.
It’s a while before he speaks, but when he does his words are not those of anger as I expect. He doesn’t use words to try and build a barrier between us as I thought he might, and as I would like to; instead his words are softly spoken and tinged with sorrow.
“What’s happened to you, Harry?”
I don’t answer. I don’t know what he means.
When it is clear to him that I’m not going to reply he continues, and continues to gaze at me. I stare at the table, where his hand still rests on mine, but he doesn’t remove it, even with my eyes practically burning holes in it.
“You used to be so confident, and you would never have questioned how I felt, no matter what, because you were confident enough in yourself, God, even arrogant enough, to believe you were more than enough to keep me happy.”
“You,” I want to say, “You’re what happened, you’re what changed me. Maybe I used to be like that, but you changed that in me, because I need you so much that I’m sure you can’t need me the same or you’d never have left.” But how can I tell him this? Tell him I’d given him my blessing to go (if eventually - when I no longer had a choice), all the while praying he’d ask me to go with him, but too proud to suggest it again myself.
“I just… I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly decided to come back,” is what I say instead, pulling my hand away from his, leaning back and following my arms.
“I missed you. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“After five years? After five years you suddenly decide you miss me, and that’s reason enough to come back? What if I have a life now? What if I forgot about you a long time ago? Would you just leave again?”
He thinks for a minute before replying, his voice a whisper. “Yes.”
I can’t believe him. “So why are you here?”
“Because Tom and Danny… they asked me to come.”
“What if I’d asked you to come back, not them? Would you of then?”
He doesn’t answer.
“So really,” I say angrily, “Really you came back for them, not for me. They fed you some tale of woe about how much I need you and you suddenly realise how much you miss me? More like they told you that and you thought it’d be entertaining to come back and have a good laugh at me.”
He opens his mouth ton contradict me.
“And if that’s not true,” I say, “Just you prove me wrong, you just prove me wrong.”
He seems troubled, without a come back, and I’m feeling a bit more comfortable. I can’t believe the nerve of him to come back here like this, and I decide that keeping my barriers up and not letting him in is the safest way to do this - that way my feelings are safe and he doesn’t get whatever it is he came for. However much I thought I needed him, I know now, now that he’s here and I’ve thought about this, that I can never let him in again. I’d let him in and fall in love all over again, and before long he’d get bored and just up and leave me.
Again.
I was not going to put myself through that same situation a second time ‘round. To the thought of that, I preferred the thought of just getting angry. After all, he perfectly well deserved it, and while I showed him anger I wouldn’t be showing him how much I was hurting just through him being here and it would be safer that way. Anger was easier to deal with than anything else.
He sits back too, watching me inquisitively. He has all of the confidence I seem to be lacking, and under his watchful gaze I feel like he is unravelling me with his eyes, right down to my core until he can read my most secret thoughts. It’s making me feel uncomfortable again; I feel like I’m losing control, and I’m sure that he knows it.
I try to imagine where else I could be right now, playing ‘anywhere but here’ with myself in my head, imagining what would be happening right now if Dougie had never arrived, or what I would be doing if I’d managed to find a reason to not leave the house, or imagining I wasn’t really here at all - that I was Tom or Danny, sat at the bar, while one of them was me, wondering what was going on away from the pain of it all. I can just imagine them sat there now:
“What do you reckon’s going on?” Danny hisses to Tom as they sat at the bar.
“I don’t know,” Tom sighs exasperatedly, “I can’t see -- just the same as two minutes ago, so stop asking. Honestly, you’re like a child.”
Danny sulks. “I just want to know.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Yeah,” says Roger, coming over, “One of them’ll come storming out in minute, you know how temperamental they both are.” Tom and Danny shrug uneasily.
Silence reigns for perhaps another thirty seconds.
“It’s not good,” Danny says, “I’ve got to go and look.”
“Danny-“ Tom begin.
But he’s already gone.
Before I can imagine that Danny’s going to come and get me out of this awkward situation however I’m jolted back to reality suddenly by movement from Dougie. He smiles slightly, and, having made some kind of decision, stands abruptly. He seems taller than I remember.
“Fine,” he says. “If that’s the way you want it.”
I’m sure he’s leaving, and so I refuse to look at him. I’m not sure how I feel about that thought, so I think it safest to just show him nothing at all.
Fandom: McFly
Pairing: PoynterJudd
Rating: 12
Part: 7/8
Word Count: 1,177
Summary: Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,
One without a permanent scar,
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there
I look up upon hearing his words, hardly daring to believe it. Our gaze meets for the first time and I realise there is nothing in those eyes to be scared of at all - they are the same eyes that they’ve always been.
But looking into them still manages to break my heart all over again, because the truth is I can’t believe it. Suddenly I find myself laughing, a bitter laugh, a disbelieving one. He’d been off travelling the world and having the time of his life, how could he have missed me?
I don’t want to tell him any of this, but before I know it my thoughts aren’t just in my head, they are pouring out of my mouth, too. I’m telling him that I don’t believe he wants me, that I don’t believe I can compare to the wonders of the world, and that I think five years is too long to suddenly decide he needs me.
He stares as me for a while, stunned, whether by what I said or because this angry expression of rage and jealousy is so sudden I don’t know.
It’s a while before he speaks, but when he does his words are not those of anger as I expect. He doesn’t use words to try and build a barrier between us as I thought he might, and as I would like to; instead his words are softly spoken and tinged with sorrow.
“What’s happened to you, Harry?”
I don’t answer. I don’t know what he means.
When it is clear to him that I’m not going to reply he continues, and continues to gaze at me. I stare at the table, where his hand still rests on mine, but he doesn’t remove it, even with my eyes practically burning holes in it.
“You used to be so confident, and you would never have questioned how I felt, no matter what, because you were confident enough in yourself, God, even arrogant enough, to believe you were more than enough to keep me happy.”
“You,” I want to say, “You’re what happened, you’re what changed me. Maybe I used to be like that, but you changed that in me, because I need you so much that I’m sure you can’t need me the same or you’d never have left.” But how can I tell him this? Tell him I’d given him my blessing to go (if eventually - when I no longer had a choice), all the while praying he’d ask me to go with him, but too proud to suggest it again myself.
“I just… I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly decided to come back,” is what I say instead, pulling my hand away from his, leaning back and following my arms.
“I missed you. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“After five years? After five years you suddenly decide you miss me, and that’s reason enough to come back? What if I have a life now? What if I forgot about you a long time ago? Would you just leave again?”
He thinks for a minute before replying, his voice a whisper. “Yes.”
I can’t believe him. “So why are you here?”
“Because Tom and Danny… they asked me to come.”
“What if I’d asked you to come back, not them? Would you of then?”
He doesn’t answer.
“So really,” I say angrily, “Really you came back for them, not for me. They fed you some tale of woe about how much I need you and you suddenly realise how much you miss me? More like they told you that and you thought it’d be entertaining to come back and have a good laugh at me.”
He opens his mouth ton contradict me.
“And if that’s not true,” I say, “Just you prove me wrong, you just prove me wrong.”
He seems troubled, without a come back, and I’m feeling a bit more comfortable. I can’t believe the nerve of him to come back here like this, and I decide that keeping my barriers up and not letting him in is the safest way to do this - that way my feelings are safe and he doesn’t get whatever it is he came for. However much I thought I needed him, I know now, now that he’s here and I’ve thought about this, that I can never let him in again. I’d let him in and fall in love all over again, and before long he’d get bored and just up and leave me.
Again.
I was not going to put myself through that same situation a second time ‘round. To the thought of that, I preferred the thought of just getting angry. After all, he perfectly well deserved it, and while I showed him anger I wouldn’t be showing him how much I was hurting just through him being here and it would be safer that way. Anger was easier to deal with than anything else.
He sits back too, watching me inquisitively. He has all of the confidence I seem to be lacking, and under his watchful gaze I feel like he is unravelling me with his eyes, right down to my core until he can read my most secret thoughts. It’s making me feel uncomfortable again; I feel like I’m losing control, and I’m sure that he knows it.
I try to imagine where else I could be right now, playing ‘anywhere but here’ with myself in my head, imagining what would be happening right now if Dougie had never arrived, or what I would be doing if I’d managed to find a reason to not leave the house, or imagining I wasn’t really here at all - that I was Tom or Danny, sat at the bar, while one of them was me, wondering what was going on away from the pain of it all. I can just imagine them sat there now:
“What do you reckon’s going on?” Danny hisses to Tom as they sat at the bar.
“I don’t know,” Tom sighs exasperatedly, “I can’t see -- just the same as two minutes ago, so stop asking. Honestly, you’re like a child.”
Danny sulks. “I just want to know.”
“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Yeah,” says Roger, coming over, “One of them’ll come storming out in minute, you know how temperamental they both are.” Tom and Danny shrug uneasily.
Silence reigns for perhaps another thirty seconds.
“It’s not good,” Danny says, “I’ve got to go and look.”
“Danny-“ Tom begin.
But he’s already gone.
Before I can imagine that Danny’s going to come and get me out of this awkward situation however I’m jolted back to reality suddenly by movement from Dougie. He smiles slightly, and, having made some kind of decision, stands abruptly. He seems taller than I remember.
“Fine,” he says. “If that’s the way you want it.”
I’m sure he’s leaving, and so I refuse to look at him. I’m not sure how I feel about that thought, so I think it safest to just show him nothing at all.