He stood at the edge, looking down at the water crashing against the rocks, the rain soaking him through to the skin, and said quietly "I guess this is it."


He lowered himself carefully to the wet grass, swung his legs over the side to hang into nothing.  Listened for a moment to the wind and the rain.  It had all been too much for him, the point of no return had been reached, it was just a matter of getting past it.  He was good at making decisions, twice as good as talking himself out of them.  He considered doing that now, turning back, swallowing his pride and drowning his sorrows. But he was better at just drowning than sorrow now.

He tapped his heels idly against the side of the cliff, watched a dislodged pebble fall for long seconds before it hit the water far below.  His sure destination.  Decision made.

It was just as he stood up to leap that she spoke for the first time.  He hadn't known she was there, hadn't heard her coming, and suddenly he doubted his actions.  Never being able to hear her voice again would surely drive him over the edge.  Would have, if he wasn't already falling.

"It doesn't have to be like this," she said.  "You always have a choice."

He turned, locked his emerald eyes to hers.  "How did you find me?"  His voice was soft, and careful.

"They found your note.  I figured you would come here."  Then, more harshly: "You have a flair for the dramatic."

He didn't understand her, never could.  He had thought she didn't care, but then why would she be here?  She was a puzzle to him, one he couldn't solve.  But there was another way out.  He glanced down and subtly shifted his weight back, closer to the edge of the cliff, trying to conceal the fact that she had the power to stop him, trying to hold on to the option of final escape if she pressed in too close.  He wondered, suddenly, whether she knew how much she meant to him.  And then realized what it meant that she was there with him then: beneath all the dramatics, his chances were blown, the last hope was lost, and he was only deceiving himself.  This would be the last time.

He brushed rain-slick hair away from his eyes, and met her gaze again.  "So why did you come?  I can't do this.  I can feel myself falling for you all over again, but I can't have you.  I screwed it up."  He waited for her answer.  Listened, for a moment, to the dull angry roar of the water against the rocks.

"You did this to yourself," she said, ignoring his question.  "You always do it to yourself."

The accusation in her eyes was too much for him, especially when he knew she was right.  "I know I do," he said, feeling his willpower weaken.  Her contempt burned into him, searing his heart, sapping his resolve, but he forced himself to keep looking at her.  "I always do it to myself, it's who I am.  Just tell me, was there ever a chance?  Or was this whole thing just some perverse dance you thought up?"  He bit his tongue as soon as the last words escaped his mouth, wishing he had thought them through, feeling his determination fading.

"Once.  Maybe once."  Her voice had softened, and she took a step towards him.  He had hit a nerve, he realized, but the thought only angered him.  He felt the emotion building as he remembered the way things had been before.  He knew it wasn't her fault, and he tried to fight it, but he could tell it wouldn't be long before he snapped.  The mental labyrinth he had spent years building around himself would come crashing down, all because he had told one person – told her – everything.  He loved her, truly loved her, but he had come to terms with the way things needed to be now.  He knew that this was it.  He was everything with her beside him, but nothing with her against him.

"You said there was a choice," he said, his voice growing louder as the rage filled him, the burning spreading outwards through his body.  "So, I can choose.  You pushed me to the edge, but it was my choice to jump."

Her reply was swift, fanning the flames.  "I never pushed you.  I just wanted to help."

They both knew what was happening, and helpless tears streamed down his face.  She was fine, he thought, she didn't mind.  Or maybe she did.  He had never been able to read her.  All he had ever wanted was to be hers, a goal that had slowly evaded him, and the more it slipped away the harder he grasped at what he took to be his only salvation.

"Did you ever love me?" he asked, trying to keep the last desperate hope from his face.  "Do you still love me?"  She hesitated for a moment, just long enough, and he shook his head angrily and continued.  "Don't answer.  I can't handle it either way.  I always loved you, maybe I always will.  I wish I could say I didn't, I wish I could just lock you out."  She opened her mouth to speak, but his words rode over her, louder, a full shout: "I can't listen to you anymore!"

The rage consumed him, the red haze blurred his vision.  Every muscle ached with nervous tension, and he knew – they both knew – what needed to be done.  "Stay happy, kid," he said finally, his voice eerily calm.  He took one short, terminal step into the emptiness, leaving all the anger and bitterness of his life behind him as he fell.  He did not scream, did not cry out, but after a long moment she heard the muted crash of his landing.

She stood at the edge as the storm cleared, looking out stunned at the distant sea, weak sunlight warming her skin.  And said, quietly, "Yes."



[I know i write like shit, but hey, this was my first draft like. but it was forming in my head for a while, i just turned off and typed it out. Sorry if it was a TLDR] leave a comment if you read the whole thing?? ]