Work Text:
They were backward. In theory, it was beautiful. Two lovers which the love they shared was stronger than time and space, and despite everything conspiring against them, the always found the way to each other’s arms. They were endless, like a serpent eating its own tail, an ouroboros.
But every beginning was bitter because they were also endings. When he was young and naïve, her eyes were heavy and sad with everything they had said and done. During his first kiss, her lips were sweet and gentle as if he could break with enough pressure, but, in the end, she was the one who was left behind with a crack on her hearts.
Since the start, he was an asshole.
While young, River was wild and bright and beautiful. She could squeeze both his hearts with her little fingers and he would let her, too astonished to even care. He has always been a little reckless around River. If he had been just a little cautious while beside that woman, he would have never let himself fall for her.
He has always been great at falling in love and terrible at showing it. And loving River… Somehow, it seemed stronger than the others times. He felt as if he had never loved someone as much as he loved that woman, and it scared the hell out of him.
Although the theory and the stories were magnificent, in practice, sometimes it seemed as they were just hurting themselves. He came to that conclusion when it was already too late, even though she was lying just beside him.
He wished that he could have done a better work as her husband because she deserved more than this broken time lord. Every effort he has made seemed pale beside how much she had done for him. He, suddenly, felt tired and felt very alone, despite her sweet breath against his neck and her little hand resting on his chest.
She was there, but not really there, because somehow she was already far gone. He should have run away himself when he had time and self-control to do it, before his hearts were hers.
He was the one who was spoiling everything, with his selfishness, weakness and lots of others ‘-ness’es. He was the one spoiling everything when he allowed that marvelous woman falling in love with his atrocious self and hurting herself in the process. He was the one spoiling everything when he also fell for her and started this never-ending torture.
He wished he could cry and make her up for everything he had done, will do and were doing, but there weren’t any tear left: he had cried all of them already.
He was tired of running away but also tired of running into.
He had sung all the songs and kissed all the kisses. He had fought all the fights and, with just words, won all of them, so why was he feeling like a loser? If they were a movie or a book on the shelf, he knew he was near to the end of it and it would be sad. The sadder ever. But he couldn’t feel sad when she woke up and kissed him with those lips that were so soft and so pliant against his, taking his fears away. He couldn’t regret loving her, just losing her. She couldn’t have been a mistake if she was the only answer.