sexcivaughn14
welcome home
great chapter hunn! thanks for the pm
Sydney Bristow 2300844
Cadet
so sad.
poor vaughn. and poor syd.
*sigh*
they need to talk to eachother.
i love the way you write!!
poor vaughn. and poor syd.
*sigh*
they need to talk to eachother.
i love the way you write!!
supergirl14
Cadet
wow this is soooo good!!!
i really like your writing a lot.
could i get a pm when you update?
thanks and do so asap!
i really like your writing a lot.
could i get a pm when you update?
thanks and do so asap!
Hired-Goon
Cadet
Awesome work, I love how detailed your writing is, its a pleasure to read.
Could I please get a PM?
Could I please get a PM?
Hey Jess! your cheerio at SD-1... remember me? lol... I want a PM here, til' SD-1 is back open for everyone.. because currently.. its only open for subscribers.. and its REALLY boring being there with only subscribers.. because Biba's the only other subscriber I know... how sad is that? lol. I really like your story... and I want Vaughn to ressurect his emotions woman! He needs to have a soul! lol... well... PM me please
Julia
your cheerio at SD-1... remember me? lol... I want a PM here, til' SD-1 is back open for everyone.. because currently.. its only open for subscribers.. and its REALLY boring being there with only subscribers.. because Biba's the only other subscriber I know... how sad is that? lol. I really like your story... and I want Vaughn to ressurect his emotions woman! He needs to have a soul! lol... well... PM me please Julia
sunshine231
Cadet
great story pm me when you update
aliasdancer007
Cadet
omg, you are an amazing writer...this is soo moving. hopefully syd will get vaughn out of it, pm me when u update please! thanks
Addicted 2 Alias
Cadet
lolz just read the update at Allies!!! lol. i'll have to remind myself to only read it here!!!!!!!
But yeah. loved the update Hope Vaughn comes around soon n realizes that even tho he lost lauren, he has something even better in front of him
Aly xx
But yeah. loved the update
Hope Vaughn comes around soon n realizes that even tho he lost lauren, he has something even better in front of himAly xx
Crazy for Alias
Cadet
i love this fic...can i get a pm
alias_luver
Cadet
Wow! Great chapter! I just love your writting!
Thanks for the PM! I can't wait for more!
Thanks for the PM! I can't wait for more!
mightylittleone
Cadet
Jess, you're such an eloquent writer...the story is so poetic and sad. Thanks for the PM.
Nope, unfortunately its not an update but the next chapter is on its way. Deepest apologies at the long break between updates but I didn't think it would take me this long to write the chapter, but rest assured it will be posted in the next decade or so :lol:
So, while I'm doing this little announcement I'll take the opportunity to thank all those who gave lovely reviews. A big THANKS to all ^_^
:naughty:
Vaughn doesn't enjoy hurting himself (at least I hope not), he's trying to feel....something. Its a way for him to vent anger.
Wouldn't we all like to give Vaughn a hug right now But things will develop soon enough. Thanks for reading and I'll add you to the PM list.
I still remember you ^_^ Hopefully, SD-1 will be online soon so all you guys can bug me incessantly for an update, it'll be good motivation :lol: Thanks for reading and I'll add you to the PM list.
:lol: Hopefully, Vaughn will come to his senses soon. Thanks for reading.
PM list:
Addicted 2 Alias
tunita
German Muse
sexcivaughan14
mightylittleone
Alias_Day
AliasChica316
alias_luver
wanttobew/MV
mystery_chick
Sydney Bristow 2300844
loislane_chet
!n@$en+
michy
German Muse
aliascazUK
Shelz
supergirl14
Hired-Goon
ToughCookie47
sunshine231
aliasdancer007
Lovygirl
Crazy for Alias
Bubbles
msu_ruby
So, while I'm doing this little announcement I'll take the opportunity to thank all those who gave lovely reviews. A big THANKS to all ^_^
Hehe, great minds think alikemystery_chick said:
:naughty:Masochistic sadist? Not quiteoooh I really liked that. Though isn't it a little sadomasichiost (sp?) of Vaughn to just punch his mirror out because he's a little pissed? :blink:
Vaughn doesn't enjoy hurting himself (at least I hope not), he's trying to feel....something. Its a way for him to vent anger.Yeah, I wrote a ficaliascazUK said:Jess wrote a fanfic?? where was i when this happened?? but dude im glad that i finally found it, its goooood. Dang hun i didnt know that you could write!! so talented! Feel free to put me on the PM list!!
Caz
Oh and just so i know, is Vaughn gonna get happier because im really feeling the need to give him a hug right now. Normally not a bad thing but seeing as its an impossible dream... torture right now!!
[post="1065329"]<{POST_SNAPBACK}>[/post]
Wouldn't we all like to give Vaughn a hug right now But things will develop soon enough. Thanks for reading and I'll add you to the PM list.Julia!ToughCookie47 said:Hey Jess!
Julia
[post="1065987"]<{POST_SNAPBACK}>[/post]
I still remember you ^_^ Hopefully, SD-1 will be online soon so all you guys can bug me incessantly for an update, it'll be good motivation :lol: Thanks for reading and I'll add you to the PM list.Yup, I post at Allies as well. But it doesn't hurt to read it twiceAddicted 2 Alias said:lolz just read the update at Allies!!! lol. i'll have to remind myself to only read it here!!!!!!!
But yeah. loved the update
Aly xx
[post="1066357"]<{POST_SNAPBACK}>[/post]
:lol: Hopefully, Vaughn will come to his senses soon. Thanks for reading.Its posted at two other places so its possible you could of read it before...or maybe its deja vu :lol: But I'm still happy that you read and I'll add you to the PM list.Bubbles said:
PM list:
Addicted 2 Alias
tunita
German Muse
sexcivaughan14
mightylittleone
Alias_Day
AliasChica316
alias_luver
wanttobew/MV
mystery_chick
Sydney Bristow 2300844
loislane_chet
!n@$en+
michy
German Muse
aliascazUK
Shelz
supergirl14
Hired-Goon
ToughCookie47
sunshine231
aliasdancer007
Lovygirl
Crazy for Alias
Bubbles
msu_ruby
sydandvaughnforever
Cadet
Ohmigawsh, I'm readign this and listening to I Shall Believe at the Same time...*tear* omg this is such an awesome awesome awesome fic please please please please Pm me, Jess! Thanxies Spanxies!
XOXOXOXO,
Rachel
XOXOXOXO,
Rachel
A/N: Woot! Finally I updated Sorry, for the long delay I'm a bit unsure with this chapter, its been hard trying to top the previous two and hopefully you'll still enjoy the latest instalment. Maybe, maybe not...we'll just have to find out...especially with the direction I decided to take (which isn't mindblowingly shocking by the way)
Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! Much appreciated. Oh, umm, this unbeta'd as well so all mistakes are mine....just hope there aren't too many, lol.
------------------------
Chapter Three
------------------------
Pain shoots through my back and shoulders as I twist and turn on the rigid couch trying to find a comfortable position that doesn’t exist. I stop moving as my head begins spinning more than usual as the effects of a night’s worth of drinking comes flooding back like an unforgettable nightmare. The sunrays streaming through the horizontal blinds indicate the arrival of another arduous day at work – another day of dreary debriefs to attend, tedious files to organise, and bland suits to wear.
I rise to a seated position causing several empty beer bottles to fall on the carpet and accumulate in a pile next to the couch. Surveying my injured hand through bleary eyes I painfully peel the cloth from my swollen hand as the dried blood works as an adhesive. After noticing that the cuts have healed enough that no new blood will be spilt, I sit hunched over and cradle my head in my hands as my hangover-induced headache pounds at an unbearable rate. The shrill of the phone ringing only adds to my annoyance and I abruptly hang up the phone without answering, but only a handful of seconds pass until my cell phone begins to shrill from the foyer. My legs protest against carrying my unsteady body the short distance to the foyer, but my cell phone desperately begs for attention as the caller refuses to stop calling even after the fifth attempt.
I clench my eyes shut tightly, rub my temples with my forefingers, and take a few deep breaths to will myself to rise from the couch. While, in theory, it is such a simple task, in practice, it is far from it as I struggle to move from the sturdy couch to stand on weak legs. Finally, after several attempts, I rise from the couch and lean on a nearby wall to stop the erratic swaying of my body. Using the wall to help me walk I manage by some miracle to reach my cell phone and answer with my voice sounding rough and worn.
“Hello?”
“Mike, where have you been?” Weiss sounds concerned and with good reason too as I answered his phone call on his eighth attempt.
“Sleeping.” Its surprising I’m able to answer considering I haven’t been in a talkative mood lately plus I now have a newly acquired hangover that rivals the hangovers I have had during my drinking days.
“Oh, sorry I woke up.” Weiss says apologetically, “but what are you doing still sleeping? I’m going to be there in ten minutes.”
I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand – partly because I forgot about Weiss’ offer to take me to work today and partly because my head won’t stop spinning.
“Sorry, I forgot. I’ll be ready in ten.” I hang up before Weiss has a chance to state the necessary farewell and I stumble towards the bathroom for a very long and cold shower.
------------------------------------------------
Weiss sits patiently in his car which is parked outside my house as I quickly grab my briefcase by the door, throw my cell phone in my pants pocket, and slip on my coat all the while juggling the tasks of locking the front door and sipping coffee from a thermos.
“Hey.” The cheeriness in Weiss’ voice falters as he sees the tired look plastered on my face and the bandages decorating my left hand. “What happen to you?”
“Oh, nothing.” I answer evasively and avoid eye contact by looking out the window. “I accidentally jammed my hand in the door.”
“No, not that. Well, not just that. You look tired like you have a hangover maybe.”
“I’m don’t.” And the lies keep on coming. “I’m fine. We’re going to be late.”
Weiss reluctantly accepts my answer and starts the engine, while I sip my lukewarm coffee and convince myself that lies may hurt but the truth hurts more.
------------------------------------------------
Pulling into the CIA parking garage Weiss momentarily stops at the underground building entrance to drop me off while he searches for a parking spot. Glancing at my wristwatch I notice we made it on time for that insanely early debrief and when I return my gaze to eye level I see Sydney walking towards me from her parked car. Not wanting to be confronted by the feelings only evoked by Sydney, I visibly gulp in anxiousness and rush to hide my bandaged hand but Sydney has already reached me at the moment I slip my hand into my jacket pocket.
“Vaughn,” Sydney breathes as she slowly reaches for my left hand. “What happened?”
I remain despondent and try to keep my feelings incarcerated in the prison of my heart as Sydney envelops my injured hand in hers. Her eyes soften as her concern changes her hazel eyes to a hue that is heartbreaking; like a child who’s favourite toy has been broken and is tending to the area of discomfort. At the moment I formulate the same lie I fed to Weiss I feel Sydney’s fingers brush my skin as lightly as feathers and I can’t help but to intently watch her hands tending to my area of discomfort. Resting my hand in the palm of her left hand, her right hand slowly and gently massages my hand, and even through the thick bandages I feel the soothing powers extending from her fingers. I gradually become entranced by Sydney’s tender touches and realise that I have yet to answer her question but we both know that it is not necessary and not important enough to spoil the moment. To any casual observer we are standing silently holding hands in the CIA parking garage, but only we know that our hands are personifying the comfort and support we have been longing to give, and its only our hands that can give it.
Sydney looks concerned when I lift my hand from hers but such thoughts disappear as I softly squeeze her right hand. Before more can evolve from the situation I abruptly pull my hand from my grasp as Weiss hollers a greeting to Sydney.
“Hey Weiss.” Sydney replies somewhat disappointingly.
Feeling the growing tension in the atmosphere I leave the group with only a furtive glance in Sydney’s direction and enter the building with two pairs of eyes watching my retreating form. Before the door completely closes I hear Weiss innocently ask Sydney, “did I miss something?”
------------------------------------------------
As the long day, which I didn’t think would end, finally comes to a close I stretch out the stiffness in my back muscles and tiredly reach for my briefcase sitting next to my desk. Weiss stops by my desk, greets me with his usual hello, and we walk towards the exit as we banter (more correctly, complain) about today’s workload burdened on our shoulders.
“I always knew we were Kendall’s favourite agents.” Weiss comments sarcastically as he crams yet another file handed to him by a nameless agent into his briefcase before reaching the parking lot.
Remaining silent I force a smile but fail to force a chuckle.
“I think I need to knock back a few beers and enjoy a round of pool before tackling these files.” Weiss states but obviously implies that I, without any confirmation from me, will accompany him. I open my mouth to rebut but before any words can be formed Weiss assumes that I am giving my consent and rejoices my ‘decision’. “Good, glad you’re coming along because you know how long it takes me to finish a game of pool by myself.”
As Weiss heaves both our briefcases in the back seats of his car I jump into the passenger seat with a look of askance and ruminate about a possible hidden agenda behind Weiss’ intentions.
------------------------------------------------
The bar is already buzzing with the regular sports fans eagerly glued to the abundant tv sets and numerous groups of office workers huddling around several jugs of beer, as Weiss and I weave through the commotion to reach our regular table close to the pool tables. With my eyes looking everywhere but in front of me I belatedly notice that we have reached an empty table, which surprisingly (or not surprisingly considering Weiss forced me to tag along) that our table isn’t empty after all.
“Sydney,” Weiss exclaims happily more in my direction rather than hers. “I’m glad you could make it.” I give a disapproving sideways glance to Weiss that he conveniently ignores and continues to beam at both Sydney and I.
She politely smiles in response and shuffles in the booth indicating for us to sit down, which Weiss declines stating that he is going to endeavour to retrieve the drinks for us and hastily assimilates into the bustling crowd. Sydney shines a small smile in my direction and I force a smile in return as I accept her offer to sit. The tension in the air is palpable as we avoid each other’s gaze after several attempts to start a conversation fail, but Sydney takes another stab at it.
“How are you?” She is trying to be cheerful; a small smile, a quick appearance of her dimples but it is all betrayed by the absolute sadness clouding her eyes.
“Fine.” I answer flatly; my answer is automatic maintained through repetition of the exact same question plaguing my life for the past few days.
Obviously distraught from my unrevealing and monotonous reply, Sydney reaches for my hand and begins to pour out a sliver of the pent up emotions polluting her heart. “Vaughn, I’m so sorry. I hate to think what you’ve been through, what you’re going through…”
“You’ve been through much more than I have and you continue to go through things that are much worse.” I interrupt but Sydney seems oblivious to my interjection as she continues with her out-pouring of emotions.
“Vaughn, I just want you to know…”
“I’m transferring.” I interrupt for the second time and this time Sydney hears my voice, listens to what I’m saying but I can tell she wished she never heard me speak.
“What?” To say she is shocked would be the understatement of the century. Her gentle grip on my hand tightens as if she is afraid that I will magically disappear before her eyes. I do not return the gesture; my hand remains limp in hers as my eyes convey the ineffable emptiness associated with a broken man and there is a hint of nonchalance in my voice as I elaborate.
“Dixon approved my application.”
“When do you…”
“Tomorrow.”
Silence greets me as Sydney’s pent up emotions start traveling down her cheeks, the sadness glistening in every tear, reminding me that, once again, I am the reason for her despair. Before, I would automatically wipe the tears; caressing her cheek in comfort but that was before the disloyalty, the manipulation, and the ubiquitous pain. Now, I sit across from her, hands lying dejectedly on the table littered by peanut shells without the slightest hint of potential movement. How can I stop the tears that I cause?
“Were you even planning to tell me you were leaving?”
“I just did.”
I take out a wad of notes from my wallet, unceremoniously throwing the bundle on the table. “Drinks are on me.” I turn away, the same nothingness existing in my eyes and tainting my voice. “Syd…” My voice trails off as I struggle to find the words that encompass everything we have been through. I never find my voice again as I realize that there are no words that could cover what we have been through together and it is evident Sydney has reached the same realization as an unspoken communication is relayed between our eyes.
We have always understood one another best when silent actions have been the medium of communication. And this is demonstrated as I walk out of the congested bar and out of her life.
------------------------------------------------
TBC...
Thanks for reading! More to come...hopefully soon
PM list:
Addicted 2 Alias
tunita
German Muse
sexcivaughn14
mightylittleone
Alias_Day
AliasChica316
alias_luver
wanttobew/MV
mystery_chick
Sydney Bristow 2300844
loislane_chet
!n@$en+
michy
German Muse
aliascazUK
Shelz
supergirl14
Hired-Goon
ToughCookie47
sunshine231
aliasdancer007
Lovygirl
Crazy for Alias
Bubbles
msu_ruby
Bekirock
sydandvaughnforever
Sorry, for the long delay I'm a bit unsure with this chapter, its been hard trying to top the previous two and hopefully you'll still enjoy the latest instalment. Maybe, maybe not...we'll just have to find out...especially with the direction I decided to take (which isn't mindblowingly shocking by the way)Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!
Much appreciated. Oh, umm, this unbeta'd as well so all mistakes are mine....just hope there aren't too many, lol.------------------------
Chapter Three
------------------------
Pain shoots through my back and shoulders as I twist and turn on the rigid couch trying to find a comfortable position that doesn’t exist. I stop moving as my head begins spinning more than usual as the effects of a night’s worth of drinking comes flooding back like an unforgettable nightmare. The sunrays streaming through the horizontal blinds indicate the arrival of another arduous day at work – another day of dreary debriefs to attend, tedious files to organise, and bland suits to wear.
I rise to a seated position causing several empty beer bottles to fall on the carpet and accumulate in a pile next to the couch. Surveying my injured hand through bleary eyes I painfully peel the cloth from my swollen hand as the dried blood works as an adhesive. After noticing that the cuts have healed enough that no new blood will be spilt, I sit hunched over and cradle my head in my hands as my hangover-induced headache pounds at an unbearable rate. The shrill of the phone ringing only adds to my annoyance and I abruptly hang up the phone without answering, but only a handful of seconds pass until my cell phone begins to shrill from the foyer. My legs protest against carrying my unsteady body the short distance to the foyer, but my cell phone desperately begs for attention as the caller refuses to stop calling even after the fifth attempt.
I clench my eyes shut tightly, rub my temples with my forefingers, and take a few deep breaths to will myself to rise from the couch. While, in theory, it is such a simple task, in practice, it is far from it as I struggle to move from the sturdy couch to stand on weak legs. Finally, after several attempts, I rise from the couch and lean on a nearby wall to stop the erratic swaying of my body. Using the wall to help me walk I manage by some miracle to reach my cell phone and answer with my voice sounding rough and worn.
“Hello?”
“Mike, where have you been?” Weiss sounds concerned and with good reason too as I answered his phone call on his eighth attempt.
“Sleeping.” Its surprising I’m able to answer considering I haven’t been in a talkative mood lately plus I now have a newly acquired hangover that rivals the hangovers I have had during my drinking days.
“Oh, sorry I woke up.” Weiss says apologetically, “but what are you doing still sleeping? I’m going to be there in ten minutes.”
I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand – partly because I forgot about Weiss’ offer to take me to work today and partly because my head won’t stop spinning.
“Sorry, I forgot. I’ll be ready in ten.” I hang up before Weiss has a chance to state the necessary farewell and I stumble towards the bathroom for a very long and cold shower.
------------------------------------------------
Weiss sits patiently in his car which is parked outside my house as I quickly grab my briefcase by the door, throw my cell phone in my pants pocket, and slip on my coat all the while juggling the tasks of locking the front door and sipping coffee from a thermos.
“Hey.” The cheeriness in Weiss’ voice falters as he sees the tired look plastered on my face and the bandages decorating my left hand. “What happen to you?”
“Oh, nothing.” I answer evasively and avoid eye contact by looking out the window. “I accidentally jammed my hand in the door.”
“No, not that. Well, not just that. You look tired like you have a hangover maybe.”
“I’m don’t.” And the lies keep on coming. “I’m fine. We’re going to be late.”
Weiss reluctantly accepts my answer and starts the engine, while I sip my lukewarm coffee and convince myself that lies may hurt but the truth hurts more.
------------------------------------------------
Pulling into the CIA parking garage Weiss momentarily stops at the underground building entrance to drop me off while he searches for a parking spot. Glancing at my wristwatch I notice we made it on time for that insanely early debrief and when I return my gaze to eye level I see Sydney walking towards me from her parked car. Not wanting to be confronted by the feelings only evoked by Sydney, I visibly gulp in anxiousness and rush to hide my bandaged hand but Sydney has already reached me at the moment I slip my hand into my jacket pocket.
“Vaughn,” Sydney breathes as she slowly reaches for my left hand. “What happened?”
I remain despondent and try to keep my feelings incarcerated in the prison of my heart as Sydney envelops my injured hand in hers. Her eyes soften as her concern changes her hazel eyes to a hue that is heartbreaking; like a child who’s favourite toy has been broken and is tending to the area of discomfort. At the moment I formulate the same lie I fed to Weiss I feel Sydney’s fingers brush my skin as lightly as feathers and I can’t help but to intently watch her hands tending to my area of discomfort. Resting my hand in the palm of her left hand, her right hand slowly and gently massages my hand, and even through the thick bandages I feel the soothing powers extending from her fingers. I gradually become entranced by Sydney’s tender touches and realise that I have yet to answer her question but we both know that it is not necessary and not important enough to spoil the moment. To any casual observer we are standing silently holding hands in the CIA parking garage, but only we know that our hands are personifying the comfort and support we have been longing to give, and its only our hands that can give it.
Sydney looks concerned when I lift my hand from hers but such thoughts disappear as I softly squeeze her right hand. Before more can evolve from the situation I abruptly pull my hand from my grasp as Weiss hollers a greeting to Sydney.
“Hey Weiss.” Sydney replies somewhat disappointingly.
Feeling the growing tension in the atmosphere I leave the group with only a furtive glance in Sydney’s direction and enter the building with two pairs of eyes watching my retreating form. Before the door completely closes I hear Weiss innocently ask Sydney, “did I miss something?”
------------------------------------------------
As the long day, which I didn’t think would end, finally comes to a close I stretch out the stiffness in my back muscles and tiredly reach for my briefcase sitting next to my desk. Weiss stops by my desk, greets me with his usual hello, and we walk towards the exit as we banter (more correctly, complain) about today’s workload burdened on our shoulders.
“I always knew we were Kendall’s favourite agents.” Weiss comments sarcastically as he crams yet another file handed to him by a nameless agent into his briefcase before reaching the parking lot.
Remaining silent I force a smile but fail to force a chuckle.
“I think I need to knock back a few beers and enjoy a round of pool before tackling these files.” Weiss states but obviously implies that I, without any confirmation from me, will accompany him. I open my mouth to rebut but before any words can be formed Weiss assumes that I am giving my consent and rejoices my ‘decision’. “Good, glad you’re coming along because you know how long it takes me to finish a game of pool by myself.”
As Weiss heaves both our briefcases in the back seats of his car I jump into the passenger seat with a look of askance and ruminate about a possible hidden agenda behind Weiss’ intentions.
------------------------------------------------
The bar is already buzzing with the regular sports fans eagerly glued to the abundant tv sets and numerous groups of office workers huddling around several jugs of beer, as Weiss and I weave through the commotion to reach our regular table close to the pool tables. With my eyes looking everywhere but in front of me I belatedly notice that we have reached an empty table, which surprisingly (or not surprisingly considering Weiss forced me to tag along) that our table isn’t empty after all.
“Sydney,” Weiss exclaims happily more in my direction rather than hers. “I’m glad you could make it.” I give a disapproving sideways glance to Weiss that he conveniently ignores and continues to beam at both Sydney and I.
She politely smiles in response and shuffles in the booth indicating for us to sit down, which Weiss declines stating that he is going to endeavour to retrieve the drinks for us and hastily assimilates into the bustling crowd. Sydney shines a small smile in my direction and I force a smile in return as I accept her offer to sit. The tension in the air is palpable as we avoid each other’s gaze after several attempts to start a conversation fail, but Sydney takes another stab at it.
“How are you?” She is trying to be cheerful; a small smile, a quick appearance of her dimples but it is all betrayed by the absolute sadness clouding her eyes.
“Fine.” I answer flatly; my answer is automatic maintained through repetition of the exact same question plaguing my life for the past few days.
Obviously distraught from my unrevealing and monotonous reply, Sydney reaches for my hand and begins to pour out a sliver of the pent up emotions polluting her heart. “Vaughn, I’m so sorry. I hate to think what you’ve been through, what you’re going through…”
“You’ve been through much more than I have and you continue to go through things that are much worse.” I interrupt but Sydney seems oblivious to my interjection as she continues with her out-pouring of emotions.
“Vaughn, I just want you to know…”
“I’m transferring.” I interrupt for the second time and this time Sydney hears my voice, listens to what I’m saying but I can tell she wished she never heard me speak.
“What?” To say she is shocked would be the understatement of the century. Her gentle grip on my hand tightens as if she is afraid that I will magically disappear before her eyes. I do not return the gesture; my hand remains limp in hers as my eyes convey the ineffable emptiness associated with a broken man and there is a hint of nonchalance in my voice as I elaborate.
“Dixon approved my application.”
“When do you…”
“Tomorrow.”
Silence greets me as Sydney’s pent up emotions start traveling down her cheeks, the sadness glistening in every tear, reminding me that, once again, I am the reason for her despair. Before, I would automatically wipe the tears; caressing her cheek in comfort but that was before the disloyalty, the manipulation, and the ubiquitous pain. Now, I sit across from her, hands lying dejectedly on the table littered by peanut shells without the slightest hint of potential movement. How can I stop the tears that I cause?
“Were you even planning to tell me you were leaving?”
“I just did.”
I take out a wad of notes from my wallet, unceremoniously throwing the bundle on the table. “Drinks are on me.” I turn away, the same nothingness existing in my eyes and tainting my voice. “Syd…” My voice trails off as I struggle to find the words that encompass everything we have been through. I never find my voice again as I realize that there are no words that could cover what we have been through together and it is evident Sydney has reached the same realization as an unspoken communication is relayed between our eyes.
We have always understood one another best when silent actions have been the medium of communication. And this is demonstrated as I walk out of the congested bar and out of her life.
------------------------------------------------
TBC...
Thanks for reading!
More to come...hopefully soon PM list:
Addicted 2 Alias
tunita
German Muse
sexcivaughn14
mightylittleone
Alias_Day
AliasChica316
alias_luver
wanttobew/MV
mystery_chick
Sydney Bristow 2300844
loislane_chet
!n@$en+
michy
German Muse
aliascazUK
Shelz
supergirl14
Hired-Goon
ToughCookie47
sunshine231
aliasdancer007
Lovygirl
Crazy for Alias
Bubbles
msu_ruby
Bekirock
sydandvaughnforever