Work Text:
It’s love.
It’s love that they have.
And that should be enough.
It should be.
That’s what every song on the radio says. That’s what every book tries to convey. That’s what every movie shows to be true.
It should be enough to be in love.
It isn’t.
It should be.
but it isn’t.
And that’s the worst part, because she wants it to be. More than anything, Vanessa needs it to be enough.
Needs it like he needs a cigarette after they kiss.
Needs it like he needs to dance.
Needs it like he needs to be free.
Needs it like she needs to be loved.
Vanessa isn’t used to being loved like this.
She is used to being adored. Fawned over. Desired.
She is one of the most famous Ru-girls. It isn’t a secret. She doesn’t pretend like she doesn’t know. She is admired and loved.
So why does he not conform to the pattern?
Maybe that was why she liked him. He didn’t fawn over her relentlessly. He didn’t find his worth in her.
He didn’t need her.
Maybe him not needing her was what was so attractive. He was independent and strong in his convictions.
but why didn’t he want her?
why didn’t he crave her touch?
why didn’t he cry when the sheets were cold?
why didn’t he miss her?
Why didn’t he want her in the way that she wanted him to?
Why couldn’t he just be like all the others that came before him?
It sucked even more because he wasn’t a bad person.
He wasn’t using her for fame. He wasn’t using her for anything.
He loved her.
He loved her more than the stars.
He loved her more than one person should reasonably love another person.
He loved her so completely and honestly.
And it wasn’t enough for her.
She wondered if anything could be enough for her.
Probably not.
She probably shouldn’t be thinking these things.
She should probably go to bed.
Probably best to just turn off the light.
Probably best to just leave it at that.
Leave the book open, ink drying, smudged a bit where she tried to flip the page too soon.
It seems Vanessa is always trying to flip to the next page too soon. She can’t help it. Really she can’t. She always wanted to know the endings of things.
Wanted to rush to when everything turned out fine and the main characters were happy and in love. The bad guys in prison or trapped or dead.
(but the bad guys in this story look like her)
But the pages are always freshly written in. She can’t read the ending yet, can’t even theorize an ending. She is trapped in between the spaces of wet words and fraying paper.
And everything smells like rain and summer and I love you.
She leaves the book open. Lets the ink dry. She will turn the page in the morning.
She will turn the page and life will go on
and he will still love her
and she will still love him
and it still won’t be enough to save either of them