Nothing Will Last *Murdoc x Reader*

Althea

**Author's Note: I totally woke up at 3am last night and HAD to write this. Also, if you have never before listened to the songs I post while reading, for the love of everything, please do it to this one. I think it's exceptionally stunning.**

You and Murdoc were sitting, both naked, on the chairs on the patio of his penthouse suite, sipping on rum on the rocks, Murdoc smoking a cigarette. You had insisted on playing some Grateful Dead when you got back and Althea had just begun playing on the sound system. You weren't sure if it was exactly Murdoc's style, but it was what you were in the mood for and he let you put on whatever you wanted.

You had slept together again immediately upon getting back to the room, and had just decided not to put your clothes back on. You relished any chance you had to be naked outside, as did Murdoc, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity. You had both stopped drinking heavily after returning to the hotel. You didn't know about his motives, but you wanted to have a clear memory of your last night with him.

As you sat there, you thought about how uncomfortable and nervous you had been the first time he saw you naked and how comfortable you were now, and marveled in how quickly you had learned each other's likes and dislikes in bed. The two of you just clicked, in that sense, and it was nice to have someone your chemistry effortlessly worked with.

You looked out onto the city below you, marveling in the beauty of it and the feel of cool, fresh air on your skin. Then you turned your gaze to Murdoc.

"What were you saying when 2D interrupted you?" you asked, "About not being sure you were- something?"

Murdoc swirled his drink around and scowled down at his glass. "I duno if that's a conversation I really want to have," he said.

That wasn't an option.

"Murdoc," you responded, "Look at me."

He stared at his drink a moment longer and then made eye contact with you, not completely turning his head your way and looking at you sort of through his bangs.

You continued purposefully, "It's a conversation I need to have."

He stared back down at his drink, and took a deep breath, "I'm not sure I'm ready. It's a big step, bringing a girl on tour. Look luv, you're really special. I've been around the block in my years, you know that, but I've never been with a girl like you. Beautiful. Satanist. Fun to be around, not just have a lay with. I would be doin' you a disservice if I went and fucked it all up. I'm askin' you to trust me on this."

You stared at the ground, trying to hold back tears both out of sadness, and some kind of odd embarrassment from his compliments. You understood where he was coming from, but that didn't make it hurt any less. You appreciated that he respected you enough to not potentially hurt you, but selfishly, you wanted exactly the opposite, even if it would mean disaster.

You could sense Murdoc looking at you, and tried your hardest to keep a straight face. He stood up and pulled you up from around your torso. "C'mon luv, come with me," he said.

You reluctantly got up and followed him, trying to memorize the sway of his hips as he walked in front of you. He walked into the bedroom and laid down on the bed on his back, arms outstretched.

"C'mere luv," he purred to you.

You took in the sight, again trying to memorize it, before you curled up in his arms, resting your head in the crook where his arm met his chest. He rested his chin on top of your head and stroked your hair.

"Sorry I'm rubbish at singing, luv, that's why I've got Stu around. Otherwise I'd sing to you," he said.

You let out a short chuckle, then started humming, then singing.

"I told Althea, 'I'm a roving sign. And I was born to be a bachelor.' Althea told me, 'Ok. That's fine.' So now I'm out trying to catch her."

You let Jerry take the rest of the song, and you contentedly hummed the guitar riffs, your face pressed against Murdoc's warm chest. You laid there, listening to his breath and heartbeat for as long as you could before you drifted off to sleep, Murdoc still stroking your hair and humming along with you to the ending of Althea. So he does know The Grateful Dead, was your last thought before nodding off.

When you awoke in the morning, he was already gone. You got out of bed and groggily wandered around the suite. He was nowhere. You saw a note left on the coffee table.

"Sorry love, I'm rubbish with goodbyes. You are an exceptional woman, and I hope you'll wait for me to figure out my shit. I called myself from your phone. Be in touch.
-M"

You read it, and sunk down to the floor and cried. You grabbed at the necklace he gave you that you were still wearing around your neck. This was how you knew it would end, actually it was better than how you thought it would end, but that didn't make it any easier. Then you moved from sadness to anger. He wanted you to just sit around and wait until he magically showed back up in your life? How egotistical! Then you bargained; if he came back in a month, you'd wait. You stopped, and realized exactly what you were doing. You were cycling through the stages of grief over him leaving. You took a deep breath and recollected your thoughts.

There wasn't much else for you to do. You got dressed in one of the outfits the concierge had brought you from your house on Friday night: denim shorts, a loose fitting dark green tank top, and your boots, and packed up the rest of your things. You didn't want to shower because your skin and hair still smelled like Murdoc, and you wanted to cement that memory in your head as much as you could. You walked out to the balcony and took in the sight of your city below for one final time, taking a deep, calming breath of air. Then you walked across the suite and opened the front door, sort of hoping Murdoc would be standing with a goofy grin on his face on the other side of the door. He wasn't. You took one last glance back, grabbed the note off the table, and shut the door behind you.