FicWad

She wonders if it's possible, over time, for a touch to smooth out the letters. Her finger won't stop tracing the final 's' in "Sid Vicious." The nail's edge follows the carved groove over again, and again; it feels cold, every time she does it. The friction won't create heat.
Dawn can dimly feel the carpet beneath her, prickling against her skin, probably leaving tinged indentations on her knees. She doesn't feel like a person who doesn't really exist. She closes her eyes, feels her hand move on autopilot. S. S is for snake. S is for sunrise. S is for stupid. A versatile letter, s.
Her eyes trace the scar on her palm and she doesn’t realize it when Sid crawls on top of her of the bed and kisses her neck. She grins and moves what she was observing aside as her arms wrapped around his neck.
"We could be so much, Adele."
His fingers toyed with the hair nearest her ears; his mouth near enough that his breath warmed her skin. Adele recognized the seduction; almost knowing how many women have fallen into his sensual playing, and for all the loathing pangs in her gut, directed at him and herself both, she couldn't muster the resolve to stop him.
His hands sink deeper in her hair as his mouth fastens to hers, and for a
moment, her arms hang desperately around his neck. The weakness of a younger woman's broken heart yearns, heavy and hopeless as a drowning Ophelia, to believe what he says.
The woman's heart wants to hope, wants to find that daring within her, to defy all reason and cocoon herself in velvet fantasies with a very handsome but cocky young man.
But the acid taste of reality intervenes, and a solid punch connects to Sid's left shoulder as Adele wrenched herself away, howling, "No! Sid, you can't have it both ways!" As they both balanced themselves on both knees.
Attempting to draw together her dignity and courage, Adele gasped for breath, but is betrayed by a sniffle. The display of weakness unhinges her further, and she thrashes against him, cursing herself for allowing him this far into her mind and soul. "Let me go, Sid. Let me go!"
"No."
His fingers press bruises into her back as he clasps her more tightly, and his voice is low and strained. "If I could stop it, Adele, by all the stars, if I could just make it stop-"
He grits his teeth, frustrated to violence at his inability to express this
torment, the corkscrew of pain in his chest every time he sees her, the
dagger-blade guilt lancing through him every time he wakes with memories of her still at the edge of his dreams with Nancy lying beside him in bed.
"It doesn't mean a damn thing, Sid, all the love in the world doesn't mean a damn thing if you can forget it, betray it so easily!"
Hysterical, Adele beats against his chest, her clawing fingers puckering the fabric of his shirt. "How could you? How could you?! You couldn't, so don't say it, don't you dare say it again, I'll kill you if you do, I swear-"
"Adele, listen!" he shouts, shaking her violently. "Do you think I want this? Do you think I enjoy this misery? Do you think I want to be with Nancy anymore? The only reason I’m with her is because I’m afraid of what she’ll do to you if I break up with her! If I had the choice-! But I don't, Adele, I don't have that choice. There is nothing for it. I love you, and I-"
"Liar!" she accuses, in a despairing keen. "You're lying, you couldn't love me and say that, Sid, I'll kill you, you're lying, if you loved me, how could you-"
Knee's fail beneath her, and only the strength of Sid's arms keeps
her upright. Her head falls back, her face contorted with the effort of a dam trying to hold back a bursting river, and her chest shakes, convulsing with half-choked breath.
Supporting her with one arm locked about her waist, Sid moves the other hand to clasp her head, his thumb brushing at the tears spotting her cheeks; he can feel the hot flush of blood raised in them, though the room is too dark to let him see with only the candlelight.
"If I could-"
He grasps for words, any words, anything that might express to her the terrible fascination of this pull that he can't escape.
"If I could scourge you out of my soul, I would," he promised her, his voice a thunder-dark rumble. "If I could make myself forget I'd ever heard your laughter..." He trails his fingers over her jaw line, the touch so light it aches against the intensity of his speech. "...banish every memory of your scent and of your step, of your eyes, of..."
The words choke him, too fervid to find voice. "Of all of you, Adele, If I could forget you completely-"
"Then just do it," Adele implored, furious at the begging tone but unable to summon anything greater. "You have to be that strong, Sid, I know you are, just do it!"
A searing pain flares in Sid's chest, an emotion he can't identify,
part-rage, part-hunger, and part-rapture. "I can't, Adele! I would give anything to put you from my mind; I would give anything to not love you! But I can't, you stupid bitch, I can't!"
A ragged sob rives from her throat as he grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her body flush against his. He feels the last thread of her restraint snap, and her forehead drops to his shoulder as she weeps in earnest. Hating him for this, for smashing through all of her barriers, for forcing these unwanted emotions on her.
Adele still can't make it stop, any more than he could, can't bolster herself any longer against the insistence of the flood. Her curled fist beats powerlessly at him, a futile and useless gesture, and as her tears take the fight out of her, her hand falls flat, open against his strong chest.
When she drags her head up at last, their eyes meet, obsidian with a
glistening sheen of rain, and weathered, faulty-veined slate, and in that second, fury and betrayal turn to desperation. One hand drifts over her hair, drawing it back from her face, and Sid would swear he can feel the fractures splintering in her heart, the agonizing rain that sends glistening water seeping from her eyes.
With no more words to offer her, Sid kisses her feverishly, his lips possessing hers with drowning desolation, with the abandonment of nothing else mattering, not in this moment, not for this time. Tomorrow, the rising sun will remind them of other claims, other holds on their souls, but for this night, if no other time, they belong to each other.
Sid doesn't realize he voiced that thought aloud until he hears Adele's whisper, heavy with her inconsolable tears, answering him, "We should have, all along."
With the pinch of sorrow threatening to pluck water from his eyes as well, Sid captures her mouth again, insinuating his tongue with hers. As his hands pull at her clothes, he feels the thrum of his blood, loud in his temples, almost painful at his heart.
He pushes her back to a seated position on the bed, the clothes falling in a pool around her hips, and he dips his head to her throat, hoping to push all argument, all grief, and all thoughts from her mind with the relentless plunder of her body. He goes hard at the sight of her, and his hands drop to her chest, gripping hard around her rib cage, thumbs pressed just under the swell of her breasts.
He drinks in the sight of her, even knowing what torment he dooms himself to with every second of burning her beauty into his consciousness. Somehow she is smaller than he had ever realized; she has always seemed so tall, so regal, but she must be a full head shorter than him, and, he discovers, his hands could nearly close around her waist. For the first time, he allows himself to appreciate her, and as his fingers explore her curves, he knows they will never forget her shape.
Adele threaded her fingers into his hair, watching the light in his eyes,
entranced by the reflection of her in those grey mirrors. She has been wanted, desired, even idolized, but never before has she felt the heart-trembling intensity of being worshiped. As his lips brush over her skin, feather-light touches along the flash of her throat, the curve of her breasts, Adele tries to force from her mind any possible lasting impact of this moment and this decision, and tries even more to forget what it means, the words he spoke to her, that no one else has ever dared to venture.
The questions threatened to regain territory in her mind, and to push them out, Adele drew Sid up by the shoulders, pulling him onto the bed, her fingers plucking inexpertly at the buttons on his shirt. As she pushes the garment off of him, her hand drifts over his chest, to feel his heartbeat, surprisingly slow. Her own, she's sure, is a staccato symphony, a rapid fluttering against her rib cage.
"Could he be surer of himself than I am?" she thought, disquietingly. To stave off that possibility, Adele all but flung herself at him, losing her concerns in a soul-deep kiss.
There might never have been any other women, for him, or for any man. As his hands mold to her curves, to the narrow waist swelling out into full, inviting hips, Sid wondered how anyone else could feel like this, without there being constant tales of people exploding from the sheer intensity of it.
How could anyone else survive the obsession flowered into a devotion that he knows, despondently, will cleave to his soul forever? What rational man could allow him to drown so sweetly in his own destruction?
His heart seems to stop as he looks into her eyes, still imperiled by tears, but pleading with him, begging for the fruition of what they've started.
Adele winded her arms around him, holding herself fiercely close, glorying in the feel of their chests pressed together, so nearly that one heartbeat can not be discerned from the other; as he plunged inside her. Her fingernails pricked at his back and shoulders, but without their usual vindictiveness. She rocks herself against him, sliding up and down, back and forth, and her breath growing heavy with each new thrill to her senses.
His hands trail up her back, into her hair, gathering up the wealth of ebony curls, and then letting them spill out like a waterfall. His mouth explored every part of her he can reach; his tongue finds a sensitive line trailing from behind her earlobe down to her shoulder; his teeth mark her throat with a series of tiny bites. She grabbed his hand as she fell back on the bed, keeping in tune with his rhythm; and as she moaned his god-blessed name. He squeezed her hand as he climaxed and for a moment, Adele realized that Nancy could holding nothing to her memory.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him as he slowed to a stop, both of them breathing hard.
She put her hands on his neck and kissed him lovingly. He lay down beside her, his chest heaving.
Sid realized, as he lay breathing heavily in the darkness of her room, her warm body close to his; that he would do everything to make sure that those glass tears would never come again.