Elysian

Remy was never supposed to feel this much.

It is a rule she lives by, never getting truly attached. And she certainly wasn’t supposed to feel this much for him. He was never good for her, her own personal vice. But she did, and she does. Remy asks herself how she can control something as subjective as love.

And that is what this is, love, between them. It is more than simply fucking, there are emotions there. Real emotions that make her nervous, but with Yale by her side she thinks she can tackle just about anything. And she will not let her ruin this for her.

Remy is smoking the most delicious cigarette with his arms around her, trying to hold her down, trying to keep her still. Remy never understood the cuddling part, it always seemed so strange to fuck and then cuddle to her. Even now she cannot stay still and she knows he hates that about her.

Her cigarette addiction is nothing more than a vice, an addiction. Remy has an addictive personality, she has never been able to say no, or just one, to anything really. Right now lying in bed smoking she feels the happiest she has felt in a long time, especially because she is with him,

Yale Beckett.

Yale looks down at her but doesn’t smile, Remy’s heart drops. She knows that look of hesitation mixed with a frown that currently settles over his handsome features. She knows that frown, has been on the receiving end of the frown many times and it always, always means bad news. It means Remy will ultimately get hurt.

And she is so sick of getting hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Yale whispers ever a coward, Remy is scared by the change in Yale’s voice, a moment ago he told her she wasn’t a problem, that he didn’t even like her, now he has done an 180 on her, pining her in place with his sad stare. Remy hates him for a moment, absolutely hates him because she knows what is coming next.

“Do what?” Remy asks even though she knows full well what he is referring to, he is referring to her, to Remy. He can no longer do this, fuck her, do whatever they are doing with Remy anymore and she is certain her heart is breaking into a million and one pieces.

“This,” Yale says avoiding all eye contact, he looks down at the rumpled sheet then to their underwear and clothes lying in a heap at the foot of the bed. Remy sits up wrapping the blanket tighter around her in protection, she feels hollow. Like something deep and meaningful is being stolen from her, like her heart.

Yes, that is it, her heart is being stolen from her.

“You mean me?” She asks purely because she wants him to say it, say the words that will surely kill her. She is not going to let him out easily, no way. Remy is a fighter, always has been a little scrapper and she is prepared to fight for Yale, like she has fought for everything else in her life.

“Dammit Remy!” Yale says running a hand over his face, he looks so torn. Like a part of him wants to stay here and fall back into Remy’s arms. And why wouldn’t he? She is fun and complication free, she never asks for more than he can give. But then there is her.

Daria.

And she means enough to Yale for him to stop fooling around with Remy, to stop fucking her. Daria is… Yale isn’t quite sure what Daria is but she is much more than Remy could ever be and that is more than enough for him.

“Just go,” Remy says, tears forming in her big blue eyes, she wipes at the quickly not letting Yale know how much this hurts.

She is Remy Devlin, and over the years she has damn near perfected concealing her emotions, the way she really feels, because Remy feel so much all the time. She falls too fast and too hard for boys like Yale who don’t fall for her back. She is so sick of being second choice.

“I’m sorry,” But Remy know Yale, knows when he is lying and right now he is lying. She knows that to be with Daria he would crush her a million times and that makes her sick. Sick that she ever let him touch her and let herself fall for him because he is a monster.

“It’s because of her isn’t it?” Remy asks desperate to hear what he is not saying out loud but thinking all the same.

Yale falters for a second and he does not know what to say, he wants to be honest with Remy because she is a good fucking friend but another part of him wants to keep Daria all to himself even if that means lying to Remy’s face and hurting her so.

The worst part, Remy thinks, is that he knows all the hell Daria and her friends put Remy through, teasing her until she cried in third grade because she was poor to cutting her hair in seventh grade because it was ‘dirty’.

Remy had ‘officially’ met Daria today. But Remy remembered Daria from all those years she suffered at the hands of Daria’s friends as she stood by and watched, even if Daria didn’t remember Remy. She has changed quite a lot over the years dying her mousy brown hair to bright red to wearing a staple of red matte lipstick and heavy eyeliner with wings sharp enough to kill.

“Remy,” Yale pleads his voice soft, he does feel something for Remy, it may not be enough but it is there beneath the surface. He loves her as a friend, but that does not mean he sees a romantic future here between them anywhere else but between the sheets. Remy is temporary and Yale wants something permanent.

Something more like Daria.

“Just go” Remy replies numbly, pushing her shock of red hair from falling into her face, letting her blanket fall to expose her hard nipples. “Just go. Fuck her for all I care Yale.”

“Remy” Yale says softly slipping from the bed and into his pants in one fluid motion. Remy stares at him wondering where they went wrong. But she quickly realises in Yale’s eyes there was no their, there was him and there was Remy, much further away. And what they did in her bedroom with the lights off meant nothing to him.

Yale feels bad for hurting Remy, he did not miss the tears in her eyes as he told her the truth, that he was done with whatever this is between them. Leaving her like she has been left before. He will accept her mean words and spiteful tongue for now because he understands he has hurt her; he understands that beneath it all she is a fragile girl.

“Don’t come crawling back when she gets bored of you,” Remy says sweetly, Yale hears the pain mixed with menace in her voice. He knows she is close to tears and he feels awful, though not awful enough to console her or get back in bed with her, ever again. Yale ignores her but her words strike a chord in him, will Daria get bored of him like he did Remy? And he did, he tired of Remy long ago but never had reason to end it until now.

Until Daria.

In a world full of misery and hate Remy thought Yale was her shining light. She thought Yale was different, a little screwed up by different nonetheless. And she was right, he is different, only he is different for Daria and not her. For Remy, Yale was a sheep in wolfs clothing, mixed with hate and misery, he was her poison and she was stupid enough to crave more.

Not anymore though. No, Remy will rid herself of these pesky emotions and live an uneventful life never get close enough to get hurt. That is her promise to herself and dammit if it won’t come true. Remy realises belatedly and a little stupidly, that she will never be good enough for Yale, and no one else will be good enough for her.