Vegas and Pete: the series

Unfading Imprints

POV Vegas

I woke up with a throbbing headache and blurred vision. Pete hadn't gone easy on me. A one hit kill to my temple. I sat up getting my bearings and here a clink by my feet. I reach down and pull up the now open cuffs that glint in the hazy light of the room.

"Then what the hell is this?!"

Pete's words ring in my ears. I had put him in those, even after we'd had sex, no, that sounded too crude. I'd made love to him.

I grip the cuffs harshly, the metal digging into the skin on my palm. How could I say that? Love? I didn't know the first fucking thing about it. It was a weakness, a thing to be manipulated and used. It didn't belong to me, with me, in me. I didn't want it!

I roughly throw the cuffs across the room, clenching my teeth. That bastard had left me! He'd lured me in, got me close, and then betrayed me.

I hurriedly get to my feet and head for the door. I was going to get that bastard. I was going to drag him back here and-

My hand stops on the doorknob.

"I feel useless, no, I've always been useless, I never exist. I have no feelings. I don't have anything left within me."

I let go and sink to my knees in front of the door. I had made him feel like that, like he was nothing. I'd almost watched him die in front of me.

Something wet hit my fists that are clenched in my lap. I go to wipe it off when another falls, and then another.

I was crying.

"If you're feeling sad that means it was important."

Important? You don't mean anything to me! You left me!

I close my eyes and I see his face, smiling at me because I had made him happy. His grin when I brought in his food. His teasing smirk when he got snarky.

And his eyes, the ones that stared at me with hardened steel refusing to back down. That softly withheld judgment I knew I deserved. That sparkled at my mediocre food. That seemed happy to see me when I opened the door. The ones that looked at me like I was enough.

And his lips, the ones that told me things I never knew. That had teased me and made me smile in return. The ones that had kissed me first.

And all the rest of him. His ears that listened when no one else could. The hands that had held me tight when I was grieving. The legs and feet that brought him to me, even when he could've run.

Lastly, his heart, the one that was better than most, yet in no way belonged to a good guy. The one that had beat against my lips and under my fingertips. The heart that, while still bleeding and bruised, had reached out for my own.

I grip the front of my shirt, my teeth clenching together trying to fight back the overwhelming need to sob, my body tips forward and my head hits the door.

It hurts, so I do it again, and again, and again, and again. I scream out in pain, as a warm liquid runs down my face in a thin line.

"Vegas! Stop! What the hell are you doing?" My body freezes my head still pressed against the door. "I know that you're sad, but you're freaking stupid to hurt yourself."

Pete wouldn't want this. Wouldn't want to see me like this, if he came back. He could still come back, just like he did before. A surge of an alien-like emotion swirls within me, and it takes me a while before I realize what it is, hope. He could still come back to me.

I wipe the blood from my face even though it continues to run. I need to get patched up, and clean things. I nod to myself like this was a good idea. Then I start to move about. Firstly grabbing the bloody knife that still sits on the floor, and then scrubbing the trail of blood that heads out the door. Right, and when he comes back I'll be ready for him. And this time I'll fix it, I'll say everything right and he'll forgive me, we'll start over. I take in a shuddering breath and then set about to my work.