Freezing

Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Wesley/Cordelia
Summary: "It all felt cold, an ache that couldn't, or maybe just refused to heal."
Disclaimer: All hail Joss, the master of all things Angel...
Distribution: Morphine Tears. Anywhere else, just let me know where it's going.
Author's Note: Part of a mini-feeling series. You should definitely read this one first, then read Burning, then Living.

--------========--------

It all felt cold, an ache that couldn't, or maybe just refused to heal. She had betrayed one friend's trust to stay with another and it hurt. Another knife drove through her heart whenever she saw him on the other side of that street, whenever she realized that she wasn't strong enough to go across.


Sometimes she'd call his house at night, when the world was too cold to do anything but shiver. She'd dial, it'd ring, but soon her resolve would crumble as his cracked voice answered and she was forced to set the receiver back down. Her inner mantra whispered to her in the dark as she stared at the silent telephone, 'I won't betray another friend, I can't betray another friend.' She knew too much about loss already.


It hurt to hear the gentle snapping of the bush twigs below the window at night. She knew he was there, could almost smell the soft scent of the cologne she'd helped him pick out. It made her insides freeze until she forced herself to laugh at some boring story that somehow managed to break into her concentration. It's not that she hated her other friends, but if she didn't put her full attention toward hearing that twig, it was almost as if he never existed at all. They didn't talk about him anymore, the subject was just too painful to broach. She wondered if he'd ever realize it was her who placed the twigs.


Sometimes, but not too often, she'd find herself standing outside his apartment door, hoping that he wouldn't choose then to open it up. Knowing she couldn't stay there long, she'd take up residence underneath his window, turning the tables on his little spy game. She heard things in the apartment some nights, soft moans of what seemed to be pleasure, but were really dripping with pain. She didn't know who was in the apartment with him, just that it was a woman because once she had heard a light, feminine scream burst forth from the throes of passion. Honestly, it didn't matter who it was, just that it wasn't her which froze her insides even more. She wanted to be there for him, but it was too late because after nights like these he seemed harder, colder, even from across that street.


She'd go home and throw herself across her bed, another tear slipping to join with the rest she kept frozen in her heart as a constant reminder what betrayal brings. She'd sleep, dreaming of a life away from all their pain… a life of happiness.


As she sleeps, the streets of L.A. laugh at the naïveté of such a young girl, while deep inside, her heart freezes a little bit more.


<--- once again, i know