AN: Haha, got off my lazy bum and updated! LOL You guys rock on the feedback for this one, keep it coming in! Don't know em or own em. So sad... *sniff* Oh and congrats to Brain and Leighanne. Way cool news for those two... =P ******************* The Sometimes Girl: Chapter Five ******************** I hate Seattle. I hate the rain and the coldness and the insufferable dampness that leaks into every building and home. But Seattle is far away from Miami, and Tampa, and Backstreet Land. Seattle is on the other side of the country, away from Nick, my lost, lost Nick, and his blonde goddess Tiffany. So Seattle is my home away from home. Call me a coward. Call me a child, but I just couldn’t sit at home and wait for Nick to come and break up with me, again, well, officially this time, for good. Oh, you know what I mean. So I packed my bags and shipped myself up to Seattle. I actually have some work displayed up in a gallery here so, you know, chalk it up to business expenses. My grandma lives in Seattle too. That’d be another black mark against it. Don’t get me wrong, I love Grannie Mattley but she is not the woman you go to until you’re happily married with 2.5 children and a white picket fence. I’m an unmarried artist with an unsteady job and a less steady boyfriend who also happens to be an international pop star. I have special grandma earplugs just to block out the majority of the nagging. But, no matter how much she nags, she loves just as much and her homemade apple pies kick Sarah Lee’s ass. That and she’ll never tell any of the boys where I am, ever. Not scary, intimidating Kevin, wacky but loveable AJ, or charming husband hopeful Nickolas Gene Carter. Besides, grandma hates Tiffany too. So, I’m here for some lovely peace and quiet, and a hell of a lot of moping. And it was working splendidly, really it was. I was in a hurricane of mope for about two weeks before the doorbell rang one rainy, of course, afternoon and shattered my feelings of isolation. Cause there was Nick, sodden and wet and gloriously handsome, looking ever so grave and holding a bouquet of wilted daisies. And damn him for looking adorable and way too handsome for his own good. Damn him for those big blue eyes that I love so much. Damn him for making me love him and for loving someone else in return. “Hay.” I stare at him, face blank, and offer his greeting in soft return. “Hay.” He runs a hand through too long hair that’s curling softly at the tips, water logged though it is. “Corrie, baby, can I come in?” I sigh and take a deep breath before stepping silently aside. He brushes past me, leaning down on his way in to tenderly kiss one cheek. I close my eyes and wish my pain away. Damn me for being weak. I take the daisies for the peace offering that they are and close the door behind him. Nick sheds his wet coat and goes towards the kitchen where he pours himself some coffee. I follow and start to look for a vase for the flowers. They’re in the top cabinet though and I’m too short to reach them. I curse and start to climb up on the counter tops but suck my breath through my teeth, surprised, when I feel Nick come stand behind me. He reaches up and opens the cabinet I was going for, his hard body flush and warm against the line of my back. Dammit, he feels good. We’ve been together long enough not to fall for the allure of sex before talking. The first couple of years any time we argued we only made things worse by going for a tumble before hashing out our differences. Nothing’s more complicated than having “a talk” the next morning in your once ex boyfriend’s bed right after you had great sex. Trust me, we learned that the hard way. We don’t give in to that temptation any more but god, it doesn’t mean we don’t want to sometimes. Its been three months since I’ve been in Nick’s arms as his girlfriend. Since we’ve kissed as people who belonged to each other, who were made for each other. Three god damn months. Almost four now, since I ran away to sucky Seattle and its perpetual rain. His fingers brush the curve of my neck as he brings a crystal vase down, his index finger pausing to toy with the fine hairs at the base of my neck. The rest of my curls are pinned up. “Where’s Grannie Mattley?” I move away from his heat with difficulty as I go to the sink and fill the stupid vase with water. I wait until I’m arranging the daisies before answering. “She’s at bridge, every Thursday.” “That’s right… Forgot about that.” “You came to Seattle. You hate Seattle.” I don’t have to see him to know he shrugged. “You ran away to Seattle. We have to talk Corrie.” I grind my teeth. Damn him. At times little Nicky boy is more practical than I am. “Maybe that’s why I ran…” Its his turn to suck his breath in through his teeth and I turn around to face him, still holding the damn daisies, the first flowers my sweet, sweet Nick ever brought me and probably the last. I’m not a roses kind of girl. He looks so tall, so mature, so grown up as he stands before me. He’s become such a good man over the last five years and I’m so lucky to have been there to witness it. And his beautiful face is so sad, so full of grief and regret. I hate that I’ve put that sadness there. That I’ve dulled Nick’s vivacity and glow. Hate that he brings out the best in me and I can’t do anything but hurt him. Stupid pretty Nick. Why does being in love suck so much? “You’re going to break up with me aren’t you Nick? Did you come to say goodbye?” He closes his eyes in silent pain and looks away, defeated before the half hearted words of forever and goodbye leave the lips a world has swooned over. Those use to be my lips. No more. No more Nick lips. They’re just for Tiffany now. Pretty perfect, bitch, Tiffany. She didn’t even have to steal him away. He left on his own free will. Nick reaches up with his warm hands and cradles my cheeks before leaning down and kissing my forehead with a tenderness that is lacking in heat. My already broken heart stops and shatters. We don’t even have temptation even more. “I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry. We’re so good together but we’re not the best. Tiffany just feels so right you know? Not that we’re wrong but god, Corinne, I don’t know how to explain it.” I fight back my tears as I lean up and kiss him chastely on one tear streaked cheek. Since when does Nick cry? Then I give him the release I know he needs, even if it kills me. After all, he loved me once, and I love him still. “Then don’t Nicky. Just be happy.” Self sacrifice is a bitch. Nick’s soft laughter is somewhere between genuine amusement and terrible pain. “You’re the only one I ever let call me that…” “Not even Tiffany?” Dammit, since when did my voice get so tiny and needy? We covered this. I don’t do needy. “Only you.” Oh crap I feel the tears starting… I hastily turn and put the vase down before dashing away the wetness gathered in my eyes. “Goodbye Corrie. Keep in touch.” “Good bye Nicky.” And he's gone. Next time I know that the love of my life wants to break up with me I’m hiding out in Alaska, in an igloo. A hidden, invisible igloo. Rain starts to fall in a steady shower as I hear Nick’s rental car drive away. I really, really HATE Seattle.