fanfic100 / 048 diamond
Title: Till Death Do Us Part
Fandom: Roswell
Characters: Isabel Evans
Prompt: 048. Diamond
Word Count: 642
Rating: G.
Summary: Writing letters can be theraputic.
She sits by the side of a lake, staring down at a blank notebook. She's taken to writing everything down, it helps her deal with everything that's happened. Some days, the words gush out of Isabel, falling onto the paper almost faster than she can move the pen. But not today. Today she doesn't want to think about what's in her head, doesn't want to write it, doesn't want to make it real. Until finally, she realizes it won't leave her alone. It has to come out. It has to be said.
Dear Jesse,
She scratches it out. A letter is a stupid idea. It's not like she'd mail it. It's not even like she'd know where to send it, even if she would mail it. He may be in Boston by now, or New York, or Pasadena or Barcelona or Baghdad or even the moon. But it feels right, so she starts again.
Dear Jesse,
Max and Liz got married yesterday. It was a beautiful ceremony. It reminded me a lot of ours. Not as big, of course, but, well, yeah. Max gave Liz a beautiful ring. I think he cheated with the stone, but had it set by a jeweler here in town. It made me miss my ring, Jesse. It made me miss you. I miss you so much, Jesse, but I'm so angry and hurt and I feel so betrayed...
We vowed for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both lived. I know that that didn't say anything about being part alien and running from the government, but I wish that wouldn't have mattered. I know I told you to go, but you should have refused. You should have come with us, Jesse. Why didn't you love me enough to come with us?
I cried at my brother's wedding, but not for all the usual reasons. I cried because I had that. I had what they had--or I thought I did--but somehow, I wasn't enough. I wasn't worth it. Loving me wasn't worth it.
I really wish I could hate you. That would make everything so much easier. But I can't. I just keep hoping, every day, that you'll find us. You'll drive up, say you couldn't live without me after all, and that you'll stay. But you won't. I know you won't. And I think that's what hurts the most.
She stops, brushes the incipient tears from her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Before she can pick up her pen again, Michael and Kyle descend upon her, thudding down on either side of her lawnchair. It's obvious they've been watching her for a while. Isabel quickly closes her notebook.
"You're in a crappy mood, aren't you?" asks Michael.
"It's obvious she is. Just look at her. I don't think she's touched up her lipstick in like, twenty minutes," jokes Kyle.
Isabel tries to smile. "Guys? Now is..."
"Not the time. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before." Michael waves his hand. "Like that's ever stopped us. "We are going for a swim in the lake. And you are coming with us, willingly or unwillingly. You have two minutes to put on a bathing suit before we throw you in."
The boys grin at Isabel. It's almost impossible to resist.
Finally, she laughs. "Alright, alright. I'll go change." She heads toward her tent, careful to take her notebook with her.
"You're down to a minute thirty!" Kyle calls after her.
Later that evening, after the fire has died to embers and everyone is asleep, Isabel tears the letter out of her journal. She stares at it for a long minute, feeling the familiar pain thread through her.
"I can't do this anymore, Jesse. I can't," she whispers to the empty night.
She throws the paper onto the coals and watches it burn.
Fandom: Roswell
Characters: Isabel Evans
Prompt: 048. Diamond
Word Count: 642
Rating: G.
Summary: Writing letters can be theraputic.
She sits by the side of a lake, staring down at a blank notebook. She's taken to writing everything down, it helps her deal with everything that's happened. Some days, the words gush out of Isabel, falling onto the paper almost faster than she can move the pen. But not today. Today she doesn't want to think about what's in her head, doesn't want to write it, doesn't want to make it real. Until finally, she realizes it won't leave her alone. It has to come out. It has to be said.
Dear Jesse,
She scratches it out. A letter is a stupid idea. It's not like she'd mail it. It's not even like she'd know where to send it, even if she would mail it. He may be in Boston by now, or New York, or Pasadena or Barcelona or Baghdad or even the moon. But it feels right, so she starts again.
Dear Jesse,
Max and Liz got married yesterday. It was a beautiful ceremony. It reminded me a lot of ours. Not as big, of course, but, well, yeah. Max gave Liz a beautiful ring. I think he cheated with the stone, but had it set by a jeweler here in town. It made me miss my ring, Jesse. It made me miss you. I miss you so much, Jesse, but I'm so angry and hurt and I feel so betrayed...
We vowed for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both lived. I know that that didn't say anything about being part alien and running from the government, but I wish that wouldn't have mattered. I know I told you to go, but you should have refused. You should have come with us, Jesse. Why didn't you love me enough to come with us?
I cried at my brother's wedding, but not for all the usual reasons. I cried because I had that. I had what they had--or I thought I did--but somehow, I wasn't enough. I wasn't worth it. Loving me wasn't worth it.
I really wish I could hate you. That would make everything so much easier. But I can't. I just keep hoping, every day, that you'll find us. You'll drive up, say you couldn't live without me after all, and that you'll stay. But you won't. I know you won't. And I think that's what hurts the most.
She stops, brushes the incipient tears from her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Before she can pick up her pen again, Michael and Kyle descend upon her, thudding down on either side of her lawnchair. It's obvious they've been watching her for a while. Isabel quickly closes her notebook.
"You're in a crappy mood, aren't you?" asks Michael.
"It's obvious she is. Just look at her. I don't think she's touched up her lipstick in like, twenty minutes," jokes Kyle.
Isabel tries to smile. "Guys? Now is..."
"Not the time. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before." Michael waves his hand. "Like that's ever stopped us. "We are going for a swim in the lake. And you are coming with us, willingly or unwillingly. You have two minutes to put on a bathing suit before we throw you in."
The boys grin at Isabel. It's almost impossible to resist.
Finally, she laughs. "Alright, alright. I'll go change." She heads toward her tent, careful to take her notebook with her.
"You're down to a minute thirty!" Kyle calls after her.
Later that evening, after the fire has died to embers and everyone is asleep, Isabel tears the letter out of her journal. She stares at it for a long minute, feeling the familiar pain thread through her.
"I can't do this anymore, Jesse. I can't," she whispers to the empty night.
She throws the paper onto the coals and watches it burn.