One Shots [discontinued]

IASWAA | Dannon's Inner Turmoil

Deleted Scene 2: Dannon's Inner Turmoil

I never thought that I would fall in love.

But now, as I looked at her face, her stubborn scowl fitted onto her expression, I knew that I was in love with her.

I knew that it was wrong, that I shouldn’t love her, but I couldn’t help it.  Everything about her set my heart on fire.  Her stubborn-ness, her hilarity, her need to always be right.  Her constant fight against the norm.  Her eyes, her hair, her nose.  Her lips.  Every second I was with her I felt alive.  I almost forgot that I wouldn’t be here much longer, that my time was limited.

She made me forget everything bad in my life.

As her arms flew around in her exasperated state, all I could think about was how much I wanted to grab her and pull her to me.  To have her arms wrap around my waist.  To hug her.  I wanted to rest my chin on her head, to bring my hand through her hair.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t hug her.  I couldn’t wrap my arms around her and pull her to me.  It wouldn’t be right.  What would that do for her?  Bring her pain.  I didn’t want to hurt her, to make her miserable.  Falling in love with her—telling her that I was in love with her—would only cause her harm.

But as her eyes bore into mine, as she stared at me with such intensity, I couldn’t help it.  I was falling helplessly, whether I wanted to admit it or not.  The spark was there.  I wanted her—there was no doubt.  I wanted her as my own.

“Dannon,” she hissed, her eyes like fire, “are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah,” I said with a bright smile on my face.

Her hands instantly went to her hips.  “I don’t think you are.”

My smile idled on my lips as I said, “Oh, really?”

And she was off, ranting again.  I loved that about her.  Her fire-y personality.  I loved how the slightest thing could set her off, could send hands flying through the air.  I loved how her face pinched into a scowl, how her nose crinkled when she was angry.  I loved everything.

I loved her.

My eyes flicked to her lips.  The yearn to press them against mine was . . . I couldn’t even comprehend it.  I wanted to kiss her, and I wanted her to kiss me back.  I wanted her to feel the same way that I did.  I wanted her to feel this spark, this insanity people called love.  I wanted so many things.

But I couldn’t have any of them.

The sooner I accepted it, the sooner that I learned that I couldn’t afford to have love in my life, the better off I would be.  There would be less people dragged into my demise, less people hurt by the killer inside me.  Loving her was dangerous, destructive.  Nothing good would come out of it.

I had to fight it.  I had to fight these feelings brewing within me.  But, part of me didn’t want to.  I wanted to love her.  I wanted her to love me back.  No matter how hard I tried to keep the feelings at bay I found myself loving her more and more with each passing day.

“Dannon!” she hissed. 

“Yeah?” I mused, my eyes flicking to hers. 

She huffed, grabbing onto my shoulders and shaking me.  “You are hopeless!” she fumed.

I couldn’t concentrate.  Not on her words.  All I could do was feel her hands on my shoulders, feel her close proximity.  All I wanted to do was take her hands and wrap them around my neck so I could grab her face lightly within my hands.

I blinked, willing myself to stop thinking like this.  She had so much going for her in life—she could get a job, have a family of her own.  And I couldn’t.  I was going to leave this world soon.  I wasn’t even going to make it for graduation.  Why bother bringing her into this mess when she had the opportunity to find another, better guy for her?  Why bother dragging her down with me?

“Dannon, why are you so quiet today?” she asked, pulling her hands away from me and bringing them back to her sides.  I watched as she shoved her hands into her pockets, a curious expression on her face.  “Usually I can’t get you to shut up.  Now you’re silent.  What’s up with you?”

I’m fighting my feelings for you, I wanted to tell her.  I’m fighting against what’s right and what I want.  I’m fighting against my want—my need—to have you close to me all the time.  I’m fighting.  But what I told her was, “Nothing!”  I smiled brightly.  “I just have a lot on my mind.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but her mouth clamped shut.  Instead she stared me down, as though willing me with her eyes to tell her what was on my mind.  If only I could.  If only I could tell her everything.  But I couldn’t.  I was too scared, too weak. 

I tilted my head to the side, watching her with an idle smile on my face as she started up a new discussion.  They said that love came in many different forms.  Different things symbolized the meaning of a simple, four-lettered word.  It was impossible to truly tell the meaning of love, they said.

But it wasn’t impossible for me.

My meaning of love, my meaning for why I smiled brighter every single day, was a girl.  She was fire-y, stubborn, and sarcasm was her fluent language.  She was dramatic, she was fierce, and she didn’t like to be proven wrong.  But she was the girl I fell in love with.  She was the girl that I relied on to keep going.

She was Brianne Nichols.