Je Ne Sais Quoi

***

Zack looked up at me curiously, still down on one knee and holding up Stella's ring, the lights setting his bright green eyes aflame before they seemed to set and lose their luster.

"I can't believe I did it again," I murmured, brushing stubborn tears away roughly.

He shook his head shortly as he got to his feet and pocketed the ring box, turning away so I could only see his strong profile.

"I wasn't aware that proposal rejections were such a common occurrence for you," that damn eyebrow rose and the smirk grew on his lips that didn't make it halfway to his eyes. It wasn't the smile l knew, the smile I loved; he was starting to seem less and less like himself with every exchange of words.

"Not that," I insisted rashly. "I meant about how I keep breaking my promise to Stella."

"That was the part of your conversation with her I politely ignored," he spoke with his face set and his gaze trained out on the horizon. "But I did catch something about how much you love me…? Nothing you do makes sense, Rave; I'm kicking myself for not realizing that before I got the ring."

"Zack, no!" I cried out, another tear coasting down my skin and pausing near the corner of my lips.

"You know, you haven't exactly made keeping my promise to her easy, Rave," his jaw was set, the angle throwing a hard shadow across his face.

"Nothing you've been doing has made anything easier for me, either! You've changed me."

"I haven't tried to, Rave," he looked taken aback.

"You have, anyway! It doesn't matter if you've tried. This relationship… it's so completely, utterly different from how our friendship used to be. When we were just friends, I never got this nervous around you, I never worried this much about anything or anyone, and I never had to watch what I said, and I--"

"Watch what you say?" he looked puzzled, his confusion evident even though half of his face was thrown into shadow.

"Nothing's as simple as it used to be… and we're different than we used to be, too."

"Is that a bad thing? I mean, you don't trust me anymore… that much I get. You know I love you and now you have the power to throw it in my face."

"I don't trust you? Throw it in your face?" my tone was level, face impassive, mind whirling.

"And I constantly wonder if you don't feel quite the same way about me," Zack was so serious right now, the tension was nearly tangible.

"You don't know me at all, do you?" I whispered, the wind picking up my words and throwing them his way.

"I ask myself that sometimes, too."

I exhaled slowly, so softly I was shocked when and his shoulder rose with a silent sigh of his own to match mine.

"Where does that leave us, then?" I asked, not even able to fake a smile or emotion in my voice anymore.

"I meant everything I said in my post-proposal spiel, you know," he spoke softly, voice aimed over the roof's edge, out into the night. "I had it all planned out; once we were engaged, we'd fly out to Hawaii for the show, then work out way through the Europe tour. Then your book tour would start in the summer with our tour, and Riley would be almost due..."

"I know," I murmured-- because for once, I didn't know what to say to him. "I know."

"You've changed me, too. If you were to ask me three months ago to propose to anyone, I would've fallen over and played dead," he chuckled dryly, but the sound wasn't right. "I don't feel like myself anymore, but I can't decide if it’s a bad thing or not." His eyes were stuck out there somewhere, in the heart of the city. He wasn't really seeing anything; that much I knew. The light glaze that slid over his eyes dulled out their intensity, making it a little easier to say what I did next.

"Maybe this relationship wasn't such a good idea, then…" I don't know why I said it, said something so stupid, so rash, so impulsive. But it was already too late to take it back.

It took him a while to answer, but when he finally did, it shocked me.

"Maybe you’re right about that," one hand rose to rub his neck, trying to knead out the night's stresses. I would've never thought he felt that way, further proof that this, this relationship wasn't working, it just wasn't working. "But can we really bear to call it quits for good?"

No, my mind screamed. My body ached to be against his, to feel his arms around me so he could make this all better. I can't bear it, Zack. If you could just look at me, you’d see. I'm positive you’d see how bad an idea this is, how bad an idea I think this is…!

He didn't glance up.

And he was still waiting for an answer, so I shot him back an option with just as much indifference. "Let's end this impasse with a break…" I suggested, voice wavering nearly imperceptibly. "A few months apart can change a lot."

"Is this an open thing? No ties, no rules, no limits?" I was shocked he said this, shocked he was so ready to move on, shocked he was already considering new distractions and potential prospects.

"If you'd like it to be," I replied carefully. "I guess… call me when you get home from Europe, if you'd like to try this again."

I felt like a robotic shell of a woman, spitting out advice to "please hang up and try again" over a phone. I was convinced that this wasn't Zack… at least, not the Zack I loved, or the Zack I thought I loved. His eyes were still steely, emotionless and cold.

"Awesome," he smiled a little, almost pityingly, condescendingly, like he could tell I was crying inside. "I guess this is goodbye, then?"

This can't be goodbye! Dammit, Zack, don’t do this! I couldn’t bear to let him see me like that, so broken and torn. So, I matched him perfectly, down to the tone of my own smile to the level of cheeriness in my voice.

"Have fun," I agreed, one corner rising before the other a bit jauntily. "But be careful in Italy; most of the Italian I've taught you has usually been for my enjoyment, not actual conversation. And voulez-voux coucher avec moi ce soir is not a nice greeting in France, I promise."

He laughed and a smile curved his full lips, changing his entire face in a second, bring me back to this morning and all its bliss. And it was real, the first genuine sound that had reached my ears all night. The show of emotion such a welcome change from his robotic façade, a bittersweet kind of smiled ended up on my own lips.

"Good luck," I spoke softly as he nodded once, the small smile still there, almost seeming baleful now.

"Thank you, Rave," I saw a flash of something in his eyes, some repressed emotion making its way through, before I felt his arms wrap around me gently. I buried my face in his neck, breathing in his scent one last time, getting my fill of feeling him.

When we finally pulled away, my eyes were full and glassy as his. He dropped his forehead to mine, barely touching me, and pressed his lips to the tip of my nose softly, lingering and tender enough to make a tear spill down my cheek.

But when his lips were inches from mine and growing closer, I turned my cheek to him quickly, squeezing my eyes shut.

"One last kiss?" I could hear the hurt in his voice, the pained emotion.

"I can't," I whispered. "I can't handle it, not after…"

I could've said any number of the things running through my head:

Not after you tell me I'm your forever, take me back, profess your love to me exactly how I said I wanted you to back when things were normal and uncomplicated.

Not after last night and this morning and seeing you fragile and torn and emotional and ecstatic and sleeping and angry and sheepish and dastardly, seeing you be yourself and seeing you lie and laugh and cry.

Not after seeing you take pictures, how you bite your lip and fight for just the right time to capture a perfect moment that you can't let go, not after drawing that face of yours and kissing it and admitting what I feel for you is real.

Not after all that, not now, not when I have to get used to the idea of living without you and being lonely, seeing you fall in love with someone else someday and having to go to your wedding and pretend I'm happy when I'm really crying inside--

Not now; I can't take it now, not when I have to let you go so you can be happy and life your life how you want to.

But, I instead settled for the simple route. "Not after this."

He was quiet for a minute, calculating as he held me close. "I understand," he murmured, settling for a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you," I murmured, for being tender to this fragile heart of mine, for letting me down gently.

"You’re welcome," he insisted as I drew back, bangs falling to cover my face.

"You should go," I sighed, dragging my fingers through my hair. I didn't specify what I meant-- he just knew.

"I'll go pack," he nodded before shaking his head, as if he was trying to clear it. "Are you coming?" he asked, brow furrowing as he took a few steps toward the door.

"In a minute," I replied, turning away and crossing my arms tightly over my torso. "I just need a sec."

"Alright," he whispered. "I'm not leaving until you come down, though."

"Alright."

I waited until I heard the door close to let the tears fall.