InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "be happy"

Genevieve Sommers (sommers_wind) wrote in lineof_fire_rpg,
@ 2008-02-26 21:27:00

A kiss is just a kiss
Who: Genevieve and Lucas
What: A fleeting moment of weakness
Where: Movie theater
When: Awhile after their meeting at the salon
Rating: PG
Open? Negatory, log

	Genevieve: Genevieve stood in the lobby of the movie theater, waiting for Lucas to meet her there. She was more nervous than she'd been for anything she could remember ever happening before, and it was nearly enough to make her ditch out and leave him a text message of 'can't make it, work' on his cell phone. She took a deep breath and got ready to bolt, actually taking step toward the door when she spotted him. Her stomach flipped, and she felt like a 16 year old again looking at him. He seemed to have gotten more attractive since she'd last seen him a few days ago. The way he'd grown from when they were stupid high school kids was still something she was unprepared for. But seeing him, walking toward her with his hands shoved deep into his coat and his head down against the chilled wind that blew past the theater, it kept her rooted to her spot. She grinned widely at him, then sobered herself, remembering this wasn't high school. He had a new life entirely, with a woman whom Genevieve actually liked. While she missed him, it wasn't her place to try and get him back. He seemed happy. She didn't want to ruin it. "Hey." She smiled at him as he approached after he'd entered the lobby. She couldn't help smiling at him. He was still the Lucas she remembered, despite the newer, grown up look to him.
	Lucas: A movie. Lucas couldn't remember the last time he'd actually gone to a movie. It seemed innocent enough, but for a long while, he couldn't stop thinking about going out with Gen. He wanted to talk to her, surprisingly, as Lucas was no longer as "chatty" as he had been in high school, not that he was anyway. But with her, he was able to talk about stuff back then, shit he didn't even open up to his sister about. He never felt the need to protect Gen back then, at least not from himself and what was going on inside of him. That in itself was a rare thing, and to have that back, even a little bit, actually excited him. Having changed after work into plain jeans and a t-shirt underneath his leather jacket, he walked down the street from where he'd parked his car, heading for the movie theatre. He was a couple of minutes late, and hoped she wouldn't think he had 'stood her up' or anything. He hunched a little as he walked, trying to shield himself from the cold as he walked up to the entrance. Glancing up when he got there, he caught sight of her standing there, smiling at him in a way that made his heart lurch a little bit like it did back in high school. He mentally scolded himself for that, but simply mirrored her smile as he approached. "Hey." He said, trying to keep from staring. Under the lights of the theatre lobby, she looked ... stunning. Now that the general shock of her actually being here had worn off, he seemed more attentive to the little details that he had missed before. He wasn't entirely sure how to greet her. A handshake would be awkward and formal, a hug might linger a little too long for comfort, so instead he settled on leaning forward and giving her a quick peck on her cheek, though wondered immediately afterward if that was the right idea. "So, what are we seeing?" He asked, tearing his attention away from her and looking at the marquee.
	Genevieve: Gen felt her heart flutter in her chest as he leaned in and kissed her cheek, smiling against his cheek for a brief moment. As he pulled away, she sobered herself, looking over the marquee with him. "I was thinking Cloverfield. I mean, I'd like to see 27 Dresses, but I think that'd be considered mean to do to you." She smirked at him, then shrugged her coat off, draping it over her arm. "Whatever we see, it's on me." She smiled at Lucas, unable to stop looking at him. Her eyes roamed over him, still adjusting to the differences in his form. He was less skinny, less lanky than he'd been when they dated. His body had filled in to something the same, but different. His choices in clothing had morphed as well, moving from jeans, t-shirts, and football jerseys to tailored pants, a leather coat, button down shirts. Everything seemed to have shifted in it's normal speed of evolution, but Genevieve had missed out on most of it. She felt like Lucas should've been the way she last saw him, on the football field, but he wasn't. She shrugged it off and smiled at him, moving toward the ticket counter as the people in front of them purchased their tickets. "So, what'll it be?"
	Lucas: Smiling a little at her, he nodded toward the theatre and smirked. "Yeah well, that actress is cute and all, but it's a little girly for me." He admitted, shaking his head. His brow pulled together when she mentioned paying, and he shook his head. "I can't let you do that..." He protested, still shaking his head as they walked forward in the movie line. He hadn't even let his girlfriend pay for anything in their house, he wasn't about to let Gen pay for is movie. Call him chivalrous or sexist, but that was just him. Glancing over to her again, he offered a little smile when he caught her staring at him, then ducking his head to look away. It felt childish and silly, being bashful in front of her, but it wasn't something that could entirely be helped. "Cloverfield." He said after clearing his throat, breaking through the silence without much reason for it other than to fill the space. He didn't want this to be awkward, but there was so much between them now. He gave her a little smirk and grabbed at his wallet in attempt to at least try and convince her to let him pay.
	Genevieve: She shook her head at Lucas' protest at her paying, then retrieved her wallet from her purse. "It was my idea, so I'm paying." It had been her idea, and she was still unsure if it had been a good one. Instead of worrying so much about the feeling of dread inside of her, she was trying to ignore it, and have a night out with the man who'd been her best friend for so long, so many years ago. Gen nodded when he said he wanted to see Cloverfield. She figured it'd be better for the both of them to see a movie that was more 'action' than romance, the mood of the theater not making them so uncomfortable. She cracked a smile, then decided to joke with him, test the waters. "You know you want to sit through a movie where the girl gets the boy and all that jazz." She grinned at him awkwardly, then slid her credit card across the counter. "2 for Cloverfield, please." The ticket sales girl took her card and typed away at the computer, printing two tickets and handing them back to Genevieve along with her card. Genevieve handed one to Lucas, then put her card back in her wallet and kept her eyes on her bag as she busied herself with putting it away, taking an extra few moments to avoid having to look at Lucas. It all felt so strange, and she hated it. She was regretting every second that she'd asked him to come to the movie. But she would force herself into enjoying the night. That's all there was to it.
	Lucas: Lucas just grumbled his response, uncomfortable by letting her pay. He wasn't used to that, but she was quicker than he was when it came to putting her card in there. He shifted a little and glanced behind them, as if always on the look out for someone who might want to cause the people around him harm. He waited as patiently as he could in line, not liking standing in one place for too long. He clenched and unclenched his jaw when she paid for the tickets, and took his when she handed it to him. He busied himself with inspecting the ticket, as if reading every word on the small piece of paper. He didn't know what to say to her, as small talk really wasn't his strong suit, and anything heavy would just be...awkward. Not to mention everything that he simply could not tell her. He used to be able to tell her anything and everything - and he would, too. He could spend hours on the phone with her, but always preferred to climb into her bedroom window and just lay across her bed, spilling out everything that was in his head and his heart. Things were such simpler when they were teenagers, and that in itself was saying something. "So, ready?" He said, taking a step toward the row of theaters as he waited for her to follow.
	Genevieve: Genevieve offered a smile at his question, and nodded. "Yeah." She moved toward the theater that was listed on their ticket, handing it over to a bored looking teen who handed her back a pretty demolished stub. She raised a brow then kept moving, heading back toward theater 2. "I've heard good things about this movie. I've heard it's like The Blair Witch and Godzilla combined, but good." Gen smiled at Lucas, then took a breath, her eyes roaming over him a second longer than they should've. It was strange to be there with him, going to see some movie she only vaguely wanted to see. Being close to him, seeing him standing there, all of it was a little weirder than she'd really planned on it being in her head. They went into the darkened theater a few minutes before the movie started. Genevieve found decent seats near the center of the theater, feeling a little annoyed that she hadn't gotten there earlier, that she hadn't asked Lucas to come earlier. She sat down and arranged herself, taking off her coat and slinging it over the empty seat next to her, then nestling her purse into the coat. It wasn't long before the lights dimmed and the previews started. In the darkened theater, Genevieve tried to pay attention to the screen, some preview flashing before her eyes that she didn't absorb a second of. All she could do was think that Lucas, her Lucas, was sitting next to her. She moved in her seat, pressing her elbows into her sides, trying to make herself smaller as she watched the screen. It took awhile, but halfway into the previews, she managed to relax a bit. Her stance slackened, allowing her back to rest into the chair, letting her head fall back against the headrest. The movie started, and Genevieve looked over at Lucas briefly, seeing him with his eyes pointed toward the movie. She smirked lightly, then turned back to the movie, thinking, finally, that maybe she could stand it after all. She relaxed further, her elbow settling onto the armrest and nudging up against Lucas'. She flinched, immediately pulling her arm away, and once again tensing up. Her mind flashed to when they'd done to movies previously, and they would playfully fight over the armrest through the movie by nudging the others arm off the armrest, elbowing each other in the ribs until one submitted. It always ended in the two holding hands, and Genevieve closed her eyes against the memory, her brows knitting and her face taking on a look of pain. Her flight instinct took over again, and she reached over, grabbing her coat. She ducked out of the isle, heading toward the darkened hallway outside of the theater. Her heart raced in her chest. "Stupid, stupid. Fucking idiot," she cursed at herself, her voice a hoarse whisper. She clung to her coat and her bag, her bearings off in the theater. She had no real idea which way to head, what was the fastest exit from the theater.
	Lucas: "I never saw that Witch one." He said with a little bit of a smile and a shrug of his shoulders. He wasn't much of one for movies ... ever, save for the ones that Genevieve, and Lyndsey... and now Antoinette made him go see. Then on occasion a guy's night with Raul and Niccy left him at their will for pick of a movie. He met her gaze and gave her a smile back, though he ducked his head away when he felt like he'd been watching her just a little too long. Sitting there, watching the previews roll on and on, Lucas adjusted into his seat well enough, keeping his arms folded across his chest. Movies in general made him uncomfortable. He didn't like being in the dark, where he couldn't completely control his surroundings. He was the same when it came to being on a plane. If he wasn't in control of a situation it was simple, he got out of it. But still, even sitting here with her it was a different uncomfortable feeling that came over him. The feeling was like a pang of loss that hit him squarely in the rib cage. He not only missed being around her, but he missed the way he used to be around her. Even with how shitty his home life was, he was still happier all around back then. Now it just seemed like the only thing keeping him happy was his home life. Sometimes he felt evil, like a monster his sister used to be afraid of when they were little. He just missed how care free he was, and how easy it was for him to smile back then, or forget, just for a little while. He was a kid, and that was all there was to it. But now he was an adult, and with that came everything that came with the title. He hated that he couldn't reach out and casually hold her hand like they used to do in the movies. That or lean over and whisper dirty things into her ear that would make her blush or take part in chucking Goobers at the screen to see if they would stick. He missed that care free part of him, and it felt like two sides of him were violently trying to rip apart. Before he could even find the strength to breathe properly again, he glanced over just in time to see Genevieve bolting out of the aisle, heading for the door. His brow knit together and for a moment he just didn't know what to do with himself. He glanced toward the screen then back to where she had been sitting before he too jumped out of his seat and followed after her. He ignored the annoyed comments as he blocked the view of a few people as he stood up, and ran out after her. "Genevieve!" He hollered out as he caught sight of her running toward one of the exits. He ran to catch up with her, his hand gripping her elbow to stop her. "Hey, where are you going?" He asked, his brow knit with concern as he tried to get her to stop.
	Genevieve: She was midway through a confused turn when she saw Lucas coming out of the theater behind her. She winced, then started to move in any direction, seeing an exit sign and following it like a beacon. She felt his hand on her elbow, and she stopped, her heart pounding hard in her chest. Genevieve felt like a frightened bird, flapping and pecking and trying to get away from someone who had no intention of hurting her. She stood there, refusing to turn around, a replay of the parking lot all over again. But, this time, the conversation was different. Gen finally turned, looking up at Lucas through eyes that she worked hard at keeping from being bleary and tearfilled. She took in a breath, the sound of it shakier than she meant for it to be. "I'm sorry I asked you to come out tonight, Lucas." She shook her head, looking away from him for a second as she compiled her thoughts. It had to be said, and it had to be said right then. "I can't do this. I can't be friends with you. Not with the history between us. I can't watch you be with Antoinette. I can't pretend I'm okay with all of this, as long as you're in my life. Because you're not in my life. You're this memory, this echo, this thing that was. And I can't look at you and not see that." Her voice wavered, her eyes glassing a bit. "I can't look at you and not see my Luc." Her voice cracked. "I can't look at you and not feel what I felt before, want to do what I used to do, want to be what we used to be. I can't do it." Her voice fell to a whisper before she cleared her throat. She pulled her eyes from the ground and saw Lucas watching her, silent, looking like a ghost come to life, once more. She tried to clear her head, but it all clouded over, and she felt herself moving forward, without conscious effort. Her hands went to the sides of his face, then to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her as her mouth closed on his. Immediately her arms looped around his shoulders, her kiss deepening quickly. She pushed up onto her toes, her arms around his neck tightening as her kiss became even more passionate, almost desperate. It all felt more natural than anything had in years, and Gen ignored everything screaming in her head to stop. She couldn't stop.
	Lucas: Lucas stopped when she did, his hand still on her arm as he tried to figure out what he had done to set her off, or what had gone wrong. It was so like him to immediately take on the blame, the guilt...not like there wasn't enough of that flowing through him. "Don't be..." He said, his face still etched with confused concern. He stared at her, trying to read what was going on with her. Even with how perceptive he was with most people, he couldn't read her. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with her, though somewhere deep in his heart, he knew exactly what it was. It was the same thing that was wrong, buried deep inside of him. His mouth dropped slightly as she began to speak, but he simply watched her, his brow knit into some mixture of concern and guilt, mingled with some sense of longing there. He listened to her, never interrupting or trying to get her to stop. Her pouring out of emotions and feelings triggered something within him. Maybe it was that boy in him that loved her, or maybe it was the part of him that always had. "I'm sorry..." He managed to get out, his voice sounding strangled and odd as he said it. Seeing the tears in her eyes, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her, tell her he would work everything out, that he would give himself to her ... but he couldn't do that. He had grown to love another so deeply that he couldn't get her out of his heart. This situation was the definition of heart wrenching, as he felt like he was literally being torn in two directions. One that wanted Antoinette, the other half that wanted Genevieve. Before he could make a conscious thought to pull back and stop her from doing something they might both come to regret, her hands were on his face, her mouth against his. He knew he should go rigid, pull away, and put distance between him. Logic was screaming at him that this was wrong on several different levels, but for the life of him, he couldn't make his body listen. His hands were immediately grabbing at her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips locked with hers, for the moment forgetting that he even needed to breathe. At that very second he was that teenage boy again, and all he needed was her. Everything told him he should pull away, he should take a breath and let his head clear up, but he couldn't make that come, not when she was kissing him like that.
	Genevieve: Her fingers twined through his hair, longer now than the last time she'd kissed him. Genevieve knew it was all wrong, not something that should be happening, but damned if she could stop it. It was like a train without brakes, and she knew it was going to end in a spectacular crash. Feeling his arms around her urged her on, and sent a chill up her spine. Something about the way he held her when they kissed was so much different than just a simple hug. His arms seemed warmer, seemed to hold her that little bit tighter than any other time. She finally broke the kiss to catch her breath, and she looked into his eyes, somehow forgetting how dark and deep they were up close. Genevieve just looked at him, unable to break his gaze. She moved in and laid another gentle kiss on his lips, then pulled away again, loosening her arms around his neck. Every move was slow, as the last thing she wanted was to let go of him. It was a replay of the football field, where he had to all but peel her off of him to allow him to leave. Genevieve swallowed hard, then released him completely, backing off a step. She let her eyes fall to the floor, and chewed her bottom lip. "See?" She gave a shrug, then sighed. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm..." She wasn't sorry. It would've been a lie to say she was. "I'm going to go." She took in a sharp, short breath, something of a statement of resolve. "I won't bother you again, Luc." Gen winced a little as she used his nickname out of habit, then shook her head. She looked at him, a broken smile on her lips. "I just miss you too damned much to do this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to Antoinette, and it's not fair to me." She reached over and straitened the lapel on his coat, her fingers patting the fabric down, her eyes watching her hand as if it belonged to a stranger. Genevieve looked back at Lucas, and nodded. She turned on her heel and moved toward the exit.
	Lucas: His hands grabbed around the small of her back, pulling her closer to him if that were possible. At that moment he was again the kid in high school, hopelessly head over heels with his first love. His lungs burned for air but he didn't dare pull away first. The minute his lips parted from hers he knew the spell would be broken, and the guilt would settle in. His strong arms hugged around her body, and he would have lifted her up if he hadn't been bowed over enough kissing her. His lips felt swollen when she pulled away, his lungs soothed by the feeling of cool air filling them. He didn't bother to look around to see if they had caught any attention, as for the first time in a very long time, he didn't seem entirely concerned with his surroundings. His eyes opened finally to look into hers, and it was only another moment of the adrenaline induced joy before the new Lucas began to seep in, like a frying pan to the back of the head. He wasn't seventeen anymore, and he was no longer hers to take. That reality hurt more than he rightly cared to admit. He had never felt so torn in two, like the boy that he was and the man that he had become were tearing at different parts of him, trying to split him in two. Her second kiss was like an arrow through his heart, and a flicker of a wince scattered across his features when she pulled back. He focused on his breathing and stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep them still. "Yeah um..." He managed to get out, his breathing slightly labored as he stumbled back a step, needing to distance himself a little so he didn't let the his feelings get the best of him again. He was someone else's now, someone he did in fact love. He couldn't do that to her. A sad smile curved his lips when she used the nickname for him and he nodded. "I miss you too..." He admitted, his voice hoarse and sounding almost pained as he said it. "I just...I can't." He said, shaking his head. He looked down as her fingers brushed over his jacket, and inhaled deeply at the scent of hers that flooded around him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came out as she walked away. He sighed, shaking his head. He was a damned fool, and had no idea how to make that right.
	Genevieve: When Lucas confirmed that none of this was right, Genevieve felt her stomach drop to her knees. She smirked, almost bitterly, then choked it all back, sighing. As her hand fell away from him once more, she looked up at him. "I know." She swallowed, then bit her lower lip. "Goodbye, Lucas." Her voice broke off entirely at his name, and she moved away from him, heading toward the exit. Her eyes blurred, and she made it to her car with some trouble, sitting behind the wheel with her hands clasped in her lap. She stared at nothing, her eyes wide and glazed over. She'd finally said goodbye, finally done it the way she should've years ago. It was closure, wasn't it? She had her final kiss, she knew he was going to be okay, and that he was happy. It was how it was supposed to end, wasn't it? Warm tears slid down her cheeks, and Genevieve crumpled forward, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She shook with silent sobs, feeling a mourning that she'd thought she'd long ago moved past. It was like someone had picked the scab off something that had never healed correctly, and the wound was once more fresh, stinging like it had the first time. Genevieve felt frozen there, sobbing in her car in silence, trying to sort it all out in her head before she tried to drive home. None of it seemed to want to be made sense of. So she sat there, waiting for the tears to stop.
	Lucas: Lucas watched her go, still watching even after she had disappeared from his view. "Goodbye." He had mumbled shortly after she had gone, though the word didn't entirely resonate until now. He clapped a hand over his chest, as if his heart might fall right out at that very moment. He sighed a bit and shook his head, turning in the other direction toward his car. He felt sick to his stomach, and his head spun with way too many thoughts to keep track of. Walking down the street he turned down an alleyway, sucking in a deep breath of the cool air as his hands trembled. He had to stop whatever was going on inside of him. Before he could stop himself he reached back and punched the wall, his knuckles searing with pain when he brought back his hand. He hollered out a curse word that was more of an animalistic cry. He couldn't stand it when those he loved hurt. He spent his entire life trying to avoid just that. Yet here he was, inevitably hurting not one, but two women he cared for. He took off running, but not even in the direction he had left his car. He just needed to move, to get away from whatever it was hovering over his head. It was killing him, and he couldn't stand it long enough to think clearly.