CharismaticCrowe59f3

He awoke a few hours later, hearing the patter of raindrips slapping against the window. He was lying the huge couch in Natasha's living room, on his back with her snuggled up close to him, sleeping heavily. Her head was resting on his massive chest, and she looked disheveled and serene. He had to piss like crazy, though, so he moved softly to slide off the couch, laying her head carefully down on the soft fabric. His fingers lingered on her cheek, but his bladder was screaming at him, impossible to ignore.

He trudged to the bathroom, relieved himself, and walked to the kitchen sink - gazing out the window. He was wondering where the paparazzi had gone, and why they hadnt been there earlier when he and Tash had stumbled into the apartment ignited in passion for one another.

That picture would have been worth a cool million to the lucky photographer that had snapped it, so he wasnt quite sure what to make of it that there hadnt been anyone there to snap it. Nevertheless, he was warily relieved, and watching the rain fall against the glass and create small rippling waterfalls down the window he allowed himself to think for a few moments.

He hadnt been completely honest with her earlier when she had asked how he had been able to get away from his obligations to spend all this time with her. He hadnt told her about his obligations, and he'd gone into this weekend with loaded dice, thus making him dishonest with her.

Truthfully, he'd told his bandmates he would be gone a couple days, but would be back in time to board that plane on Sunday - the one that was taking him back to Australia to begin working on a new film project. He'd signed on to a piece named "The Lilly Excursion" about a couple pushed by circumstances into a crime rampage similar to Bonny and Clyde of American History. The exception being it was set in modern times, and it had a Robin Hood twist. Everything they took, they donated to the poor. He didnt know if this was the right script for him, but with Ridley directing it....well...he thought he would give it a shot.

They'd passed a few ideas back and forth, and the filming would begin 2 weeks from now. The casting was all set, with Sandy Bullock as his wife, and Jack Nicholson as her overbearing, abusive father. As the script went, there are circumstances that lead up to the killing of her father, and from there chaos enters as they go on the run. But thinking about all of this did nothing to resolve his current situation - the beautiful woman asleep on the couch. He should just get his stuff and leave right now, and never look back. He decided that was exactly what he would do.

She would go on, and find someone who could spend his life making her happy and making beautiful babies with her. He winced as isolation and lonliness pierced his soul. He was the one who wanted, with all his heart, to take her home with him, and make babies with her but he knew that it could not be. His life was far to complicated, and there was no room in it for simple things. He knew from the start where this would lead, and he cursed himself for allowing her to care for him. He was feeling like a total bastard.

He was suprised to feel a lump rising in his throat, as he silently went back into the living room and gathered his clothes. He dressed very quietly, grabbed his keys and cell phone. He stood in front of the couch, gazing upon her lovely form, and then leaned forward, very quietly kissing her forehead. Straightening himself up, he took one last look, and slipped quietly out the door.

The rain was pouring down now, coming in sheets, but he was beyond caring. Never had he felt so totally alone as he did the moment he started that Harley and took off racing like the wind down that deserted boulevard. His chest heaved, and he tasted tears in his throat. He knew she would awake, looking for him only to find that he was gone. Gone for good.

He had decieved both himself, and her, into thinking that perhaps they could have something more, but he felt that she deserved better than what he would give her. Were he to do what he wanted to do and make her a solid part of his life she would never again know true privacy, and he honestly felt like she would be better off without him. Little did he know just how much the short time they had spent togather would affect him. When he drove off that night he had no idea of knowing the restless nights and longing that lay ahead not only for her, but for him as well.

He arrived back at the hotel, with his mates all up in the bar drinking Shiner. Their eyes widened when they took in his wretched, rain splattered appearance, and they forebore to ask him any questions for once. Dean tossed him a Shiner, and they watched as Russ attempted to lose his lonely burning soul in the drink.

He ended up completely sloshed and morose in the bargain. When 2am came, he stumbled up to his room, and passed out on the bed, oblivious to the sorrow that pervaded the very air. He slept heavily, dreaming of a gorgeous sheila with hair like sunlight and dark, earthy brown eyes, whose infectious laugh saturated the wind that swirled around them as she made love to him in a field where the stars twinkled and danced above.