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Written for Linn`s Picture Story Challenge. [Note from archivist: this challenge has been lost. I believe it was an edited picture of Jarod holding Miss Parker against a wall.]

Never Let You Go
by Mareen.



He was holding her arms with all the strength he had. He must hurt her, but he didn't really care, not so much as to take his hands away from her. Blue marks vanish. Pain goes away. Usually. Just that his pain wasn't going. It was never going.

So why should hers?

"Let me go!"

He didn`t listen. He was just staring down at her, with his hands on her arms, holding her too hard.

He could make out the blue in her eyes, the little sparks within that blue, the colour of her hair, shining from the light falling on it. Her skin...pale and probably soft, but he couldn't say, because he hadn't touched it for so long.

He longed to touch it now, but he didn't dare to take even one of his hands off her arms to actually let his finger trail over her face. He was afraid she would take the chance to fight him and run.

When had they come to this point in their relationship? That she was fighting him and he was forcing her? At what exact point had he become the hunter and she the hunted?

He was too close to her body to not feeling the heat it radiated. Or the smell. For a moment, he got lost in that smell, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face.

He was lost...

Wherever she went, he was always there. Watching. Following her. She had tried to get rid of him. She had tried to run. She couldn't run. He was too addicted to trying to save her to let her get away.

"You can't run from me", he whispered. She was struggling against his hands on his arms, but he only grabbed her stronger, kept her closer to himself.

"You are crazy!" she hissed at him. He only smiled.

He couldn't let her go. It was so lonely... So terribly lonely. And he couldn't let this moment of closeness slip through his fingers. They were alone. No sweepers. No Sydney. No Broots. Just the two of them and no-one able to disturb them.

He had surprised her when he had suddenly appeared. She didn`t even had the chance to pull her gun. But now that he had her, he didn't even know what to do. His talking had never made a difference. There was no half-truth to tell. Nothing to mock her about. He had watched her, like he just did sometimes, without a real cause but the watching itself. Approaching her today had been an idea born in a moment of weakness.

He looked down into her face and didn't know what to do and how to explain why he was here. He didn't even know it himself. She was so angry at him. She was always angry. And he was always just trying to save her, buried in his own lonelyness along the way.

And suddenly, he knew. It was all so easy. The answer. The purpose of their meeting here.

He bend down and kissed her. Just a slight brush of his lips over her lips, but a kiss nonetheless, although she refused to answer the kiss with anything but a bite to his lip.

"Merry Christmas", he whispered and didn't even know if he had addressed her or himself with it. For a moment, the lonelyness was less unbearable. Just for a second, he had saved himself instead of trying to save her.

He felt lighter suddenly. Running was easier. Just for a moment.

He used her own hand-cuffs to bound her to her car then and when he fled, he didn't even hear her calling him names.

Not that he would have cared.


End.









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