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In the box	By : LuluDreams Category: S through Z > YOU Views: 238 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: all characters belong just and only to the marvelous Caroline Kepnes, Netflix etc, I just own my sick ideas, lol

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Summary:
It's the alley scene, through Bronte's POV
Notes:
All the speeches are taken from 5x4 ‘My fair Maddie’ episode, and since I LOOOOOVE that scene it wasn’t a problem at all to rewatch it over and over again
At the end of that nameless street

I’m walking through the smoke coming from the storm drains, a typical New York night.

I just wish I could disappear in this misty smoke, not to be found anymore, by anyone, especially you.

I didn’t want my friends to come, I didn't want him to come. I had clearly told them not to, that I had changed my mind, that we could have set up that show any other night; but he didn’t listen to me and he ruined such a perfect evening.

I had worked so much for that.

This night was meant to honour your bookstore, to bring it back to full life.

This night was for you, Joe, to thank you for all the things you did to me: first the job, then then flat, now even your precious opinion about the pages I wrote.

About the pages you wrote, instead…

I still feel dizzy thinking about it.

Oh, Joe, as you would say, we’re a far cry from a simple crush, trope: Boss/Employee.

This is not something you just write to impress someone.
This is reading inside my soul. Deeply.
I feel so exposed when I’m with you.
And I’m afraid I’m not afraid of that anymore.

But I’m afraid to face you, because I know you’re coming to me, you must have followed me from the bookstore.

At the end of this nameless street I’m waiting for you, embracing myself, my arm still aching for that violent grip.
Stupid Clayton.
He wasn’t supposed to be this violent when we rehearsed that scene.

I’m sure you’ve read in my eyes how scared I was by the situation.
Feeling like you had to do something about it.

And here you come.

“Hey. You okay?”

You’re always so caring.
And I don’t deserve it.

“Yeah. I said I was.” I don’t even look at you, trying to sound as cold as possible.

But it’s such a challenge with all your warmness surrounding me, even from afar.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interfered. I certainly shouldn’t have put my hands on him. I really didn’t mean to scare you.” You murmur, as you walk closer.

Oh Joe, you don’t scare me. I’m scared of myself, of the way I act around you.

It was meant to be just a charade, I was meant to only play my role, without any real feeling, but now I’m afraid I’ve crossed that edge since longer than I think.

“No you didn’t scare me, Joe.” I counter, feeling the need to move away from you.
I even turn my back, but when you resume talking it’s impossible not to look at you again.

Your sweet, endless eyes. Your lower lip, that is about to pout.

“All right. But I can see that you’re upset, so I’m sorry.”

And then you start to approach me again and it’s getting harder to resist you.

“I’m sorry. It’s not my place to protect you. I just couldn’t…”

That’s it, I have to face you, right here, right now.

“No, you’re right. It’s not your place, Joe. I am not yours to protect.”

No matter how … reassuring it is. I keep having flashbacks of you pushing Clayton against the shelf so hard, after he disrespected me for the umpteenth time.
You really are a Prince Charming, Joe, but I can’t be your Princess.

“I know.” You almost sigh.

“No, listen. You don’t get to do romantic things like that when you have a wife and a child.”

You’re looking so guilty now, but I’m not done yet.

“I found the pages in your drawer.”

You startle with realization… is it also a glimpse of amusement and self complacent I see?

“Yeah, you also don’t get to write the most sensual, tender, complex, beautiful things that someone could ever want to read about themselves.”

Wait a minute, why am I the one walking closer to you now?

“Those were the easiest pages I’ve ever written.” You almost whisper; your eyes, so big and so close to get teary, staring at me with so much sincerity and desperation.

I feel devoured.

But I can’t give in.

So I step back again.

“God, you have no idea how confusing this is. I’m not supposed to feel this way about you!”

And here I am, saying nothing but the truth.

“I’m not supposed to feel this way about you, but I do.” You echo me.

And then there’s that moment that feels like an eternity, when we deeply stare at each other and anything could happen.
But I have to stop you, before it’s too late.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re married.” I make you notice and you lower your gaze, upset.

“And this.. this can never be anything. So… it doesn’t matter what we feel.” I try to reason with you, my voice trembling.

I just have to go, before you see me crying my heart out.

“Bronte, please, wait. Please, wait!”

I feel like Ulysses and you’re one of the oh so charming Mermaids, trying to hypnotize me with your chant.
I have to be strong.
It would be so easy to run back to you, throwing myself into your arms, without giving a damn about anything and anyone.

But it wouldn’t be me.
I’m not a home wrecker!
If only you told me your marriage is not as solid as I suppose, if only you told me I can be the whole story, not only a trope.
That’s why I have to keep ignoring you and walking as far as I can, with my tears making the path so blurry.

At the end of that nameless street, for a moment, just and only for a moment, I wished you would kiss me, just like Maximus with his Calliope, even if you weren’t brushing a lock of my hair and I wasn’t biting my lips.
I wouldn’t have even minded being smashed against the wall, already bruised arm or not.
I wouldn’t have minded you undoing your trousers, rolling up my dress, in order to spread my legs and possessing me in that alley; both trying to muffle each other’s moans, not to be discovered, not to be found out by anyone.

You would have let me out of the box, but I’m glad it didn’t happen, because things would get so much worse.
If only everything could be easier.
If only I was someone else.
If only I had bumped into you by chance… and not for a purpose.

A purpose I believe in less and less, every single day more I spend around you.

At the end of that nameless street, I was contemplating telling you the truth, about me, about why I am here, about the plan I myself suggested to my friends.
Fuck the plan.
Fuck my friends.
Fuck me.

And yet I know what I’m supposed to do, what my friends expect from me.
Tomorrow I’ll let you catch me in time to see I’m packing my stuff.
I’ll bring you to the point of no return, letting your walls crumble; making our love story start.
Which means that you’ll be only a step closer to falling into the ultimate trap.

Although the Huntress doesn’t want to hurt the Magician anymore.
She just wants to be loved for what she is, not for what she’s pretending to be.

If only there was a giant pencil eraser to erase these real life chapters and start it all over with a brand new story; trope: you and me against the world.

I sit on a sidewalk, unseen by anyone and I allow myself to cry desperately.
I have to go back to my friends and they can’t see me like this.
I need to calm down, wash my face and pretend with them that everything is still fine.

But the truth is that I’ve never felt so confused in all my life about the right thing to do.

At the end of that nameless street, tonight, I think I lost myself.

THE END
Notes:
Hope you liked it.
But since on ao3 all the comments (and probably also the kudos) this story got come only from a review exchange, total fandom blind, and all just for the first one shot, I guess that no one in this fandom actually likes this collection.
Well, hold on just for two shots more, then it will be over.
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In the box

Summary:

Notes:

Notes: