Crash - Guns N Roses Fanfiction

THIRTY THREE

Yea so this was originally part of the last chapter but it was becoming increasingly long and I said fuck it and tore it in two. Anyway here ya go

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"So, how are you doing?" I asked him, a polite little smile plastered on my lips. I'd painted it on my face earlier. I'd practiced it in the mirror, forcing myself to keep my anger concealed. After all, I was only doing this so that there wouldn't have to be any physical, verbal, or even emotional altercations.

"I'm doing just fine, how are you?" Lucas grinned back at me and took a sip of the coffee I'd given him moments prior.

"I'm... I'm good," another smile. No weakness. No signs of anger. So far so good.

He set his coffee down, sighing contently. At least one of us was comfortable.

"I'm happy for you, you know," he told me.

I met his gaze and found his face insufferable to look at. Soon, I'd never have to see it again. "Really?"

"Of course. And I've just always cared so much for you..."

If that's true, then why would you force me into something like this?

I felt my anger flare up, a pot in my chest about to boil over. I turned the temperature down and pushed through the heat. I crossed my legs.

Lucas's eyes twinkled, a trick I would have fallen for had his true colours not already been shown. "I would never want to hurt you... I want you to know that."

"Okay," I told him, my tone drenched in artificial, nonchalant surety. "I believe you." The words tasted bitter in my mouth.

"Good."

There was a moment of silence, and I realized we were both equally anxious and worried. For extremely different reasons, obviously, but nevertheless... the awkward tension was clear. Neither of us knew how to begin.

We spoke different sentences at the same time:

"This is a very nice--"

"So, when do yo--"

Lucas chuckled.

"Sorry," I blushed. The one thing I didn't have to feign was embarrassment.

"You were about to ask something?"

"Oh... well..." I traced the rim of my mug with my finger--a nervous action. I listened to the clock tick... how many more minutes would pass before their gig would be over? How much longer did we have?

"Look, I don't know how exactly this is going to work either."

I nodded my head, and said to him timidly, not quite meeting his eyes, "Whenever you want, just tell me. We can go upstairs."

"I think it's better to get started right now," he winked. Another action that would have made my heart flutter had it not already been pummelled into pieces by Lucas himself. The man sitting across from me, the same exact man about to get into my pants.

"Sounds good," I told him, even though it sounded absolutely vile.

Lucas slid his mug across the table and pulled my chin closer to his, giving me what should have been a sweet, tender kiss. Instead, all I could feel was remorse--for myself, for him, for my life and decisions. I hated it all.

I pulled away gently, not to dismiss him (as much as I yearned to), and reached across the table for his hand.

I dared to give him a wink, leading him up the stairs. I made my steps careful, quiet. I would be sexy, and generous, and make sure that by the end of our night, he would have gotten so much of me that he would be sick. He'd never need to come back to me again.