Work Text:
Brooke doesn’t like crowds.
Correction.
Brooke doesn’t like being in crowds.
On the receiving end of a crowd is an entirely different story.
But in them? Where she is just another nameless face amidst a throng of other nameless people? Absolutely not.
Brooke has always had the unrelenting urge to be the center of attention. It lead her to theatre when she was young. It lead her to performing later in life. It lead her to never texting back.
Brooke was untouchable.
This force to be reckoned with.
Even mother nature couldn’t knock her down.
So why was it that he could.
Why was it that with one word, one smile, one look, one heartbreak, she felt like she would never recover.
It didn’t help that they couldn’t stay apart.
They always end up here.
No matter what city.
No matter what country.
No matter what they should be doing instead.
They always end up here.
Pressed chest to chest. Heartbeat against heartbeat.
One person’s eyes were usually closed. Most of the time Brooke’s, because she couldn’t bear to see Jose look at her like he still loved her terribly.
Sometimes Jose’s would be closed, reliving the past twenty or so minutes, trying to cement them in his mind. Trying to figure out what was real and what was dreaming. When he was with Brooke, he always felt like he was dreaming.
But now, both their eyes were open, looking at each other with unending contact. Neither knew what to say. If they even should say anything.
Probably best not to.
Probably best to just leave.
Probably
But maybe not.
Maybe if they stayed here a little while longer...
something would change
Maybe Brooke’s fear of losing Jose would go away.
Maybe Jose’s need to be needed would go away.
Maybe they would finally be on the same page.
Probably not.
But maybe.
But maybe if they wait a little longer.
Ignore the sunlight streaming through the blinds. Ignore the hum of the city below. Ignore the ‘should bes’ and ‘probably bests’
Ignore it all.
Maybe if they ignore it all, something will change.
Brooke wishes something will change.
She can’t keep doing this.
She promised last time was the last time.
But they always end up here.
Walking the edge of the line they drew when they broke up. The line is less defined now, it isn’t as clear as it used to be.
It used to be so clear.
They used to ignore it anyway.
But this...
this was different
This was more
More than it probably should be
And yet...
It is.
And it is not.
And there are not enough words to describe the feelings she feels. Not in any way that makes sense at least.
So she doesn't speak them.
They stare at each other till there’s a knock on the door.
And then...
The something more isn’t there
The something more is just the background noise to their hurried dressing.
The something more is forgotten for now.
But they always end up here.
So it won’t be forgotten long.