Re: Amid the trees: Hannah & Rory
"Real life is fucked up enough as it is, people don't usually want their stories to be fucked up too. It'd be fuckin' twisted to be sad all the time an' then go n' read a bunch of sad shit. Isn't that why those old bitties watch those crazy fuckin' soap operas a'theirs? To see somethin' different?" He couldn't imagine that there was much interest in reading about the love of two perfect strangers if one was already in love themselves. Maybe because he thought of love as something all-consuming, something that took over the mind like a sickness. "An' I don't know, I think I go for pretty over real." Real meant substance and substance rested deep beneath the surface where all the inner demons hid.
It was true that upon first meeting her, Rory may have categorized her with others of what he imagined to be purity. She was not devout like others in this categorization of his, or selfless like some. Hannah was bright and youthfully naive, and in many respects that was all that it took for Rory to elevate her onto such an imaginary and pious pedestal.
He was so fucked up. There was something deeply wrong with him, and he was aware of it. Aware but unable to curb his wants. He went after beauty for the sake of destroying it, a brick through cathedral glass. He longed to break and shatter, to have so completely that it disintegrated and there was nothing left to have, only ashes or memories. Rory didn't want to hurt her. He'd promised Reece that he wouldn't. Yet, he was also deeply aware of the fact that he likely would. So, was he scared of her? "Not exactly." Not of her, but maybe of ruining her. Ruining her naivete and her easy smile, her affection for love stories and her strong belief that people didn't leave.
Away from the lights and plunged into the night's darkness. They might not have been alone, but they were far enough away that they might as well have been. Much in the way that he'd followed her quietly into the darkness, Rory had no intention of stopping her from kissing him. She was warm and willing, and he'd run out of reasons to stop himself. He ran his hand up Hannah's back. Did he want her? "Yes." He wanted to grab her and show her, his fingers flexed instinctively against the notches of her spine.