Wicked Games
Title: Wicked Games
Author: etgoddess
Fandom: Original Series
Pairing(s): OC/OC
Rating: T
Summary: The love game is never called off on account of darkness.
Author's Note: A one-shot related to my original Story of a Girl series. Music credit goes to The Civil Wars' Poison & Wine. Cross-posted to Fiction Press.
They’re playing this game.
(There are no winners. And everyone gets hurt.)
No one knows where they stand.
(But there are no secrets.)
He knows everything she can’t
(won’t)
say and she sees everything he thinks
(hopes)
he is hiding
(you only know what I want you to; I know everything you don’t want me to)
The highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows
advance and retreat
(on the tide of your lips; your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine)
And it’s no one’s fault,
they’re in two different places with two very different plans
(maybe not that different, but you’ll never know, you’ll never talk about it, there is no room for serious conversation here; about happiness, and future, and dreams)
And try as she might
(I hate you, I don’t care about you, it doesn’t bother me)
Try as he does
(we’re friends, I’m not jealous, I don’t notice when you freeze me out)
She doesn’t love him, but he always will
(I always will)
She has perfected the art
(and an art, it is)
of the ice queen; the cold, unfeeling, the unaffected
(I wish you’d hold me when I turn my back)
And he, he thinks he’s winning some kind of twisted competition
(the power in a relationship lies with the one who cares less)
So they’re both stuck in this pattern where no one gets what they want and they’re slicing each other to shreds
But she’s convinced
(just a little more time)
And he’s deluded
(the less I give, the more I get back)
And it’s a choice
(oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise)
a conscious decision they’re making to destroy each other,
piece by excruciating piece,
(breaking down, coming apart at the seams)
because no one wants to lose
(this perverse game)
and everyone is terrified, desperate, not to be the one who feels first because there seems to be some kind of victory in conquering the heart
(I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you)
And it’s not a ruling she makes,
it’s a chain she’s shackled with against her will
(against your better judgment)
And he doesn’t seem to understand because he thinks he’s flipped a switch that allows him to dictate, control, wrangle his heart’s desires into something reasonable, rational, convenient, and selective
But she knows it doesn’t work that way because she never would’ve chosen this,
this hopeless, torturous endeavor
(complicated and messy and makes-you-act-like-a-crazy-person)
But the faster she runs, the harder the universe punches her in the face with it,
with him, with them,
(so she caves; against her wishes, in spite of her plans, with her brain screaming in the background)
He doesn’t love her, but she always will
(I always will)
Author: etgoddess
Fandom: Original Series
Pairing(s): OC/OC
Rating: T
Summary: The love game is never called off on account of darkness.
Author's Note: A one-shot related to my original Story of a Girl series. Music credit goes to The Civil Wars' Poison & Wine. Cross-posted to Fiction Press.
They’re playing this game.
(There are no winners. And everyone gets hurt.)
No one knows where they stand.
(But there are no secrets.)
He knows everything she can’t
(won’t)
say and she sees everything he thinks
(hopes)
he is hiding
(you only know what I want you to; I know everything you don’t want me to)
The highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows
advance and retreat
(on the tide of your lips; your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine)
And it’s no one’s fault,
they’re in two different places with two very different plans
(maybe not that different, but you’ll never know, you’ll never talk about it, there is no room for serious conversation here; about happiness, and future, and dreams)
And try as she might
(I hate you, I don’t care about you, it doesn’t bother me)
Try as he does
(we’re friends, I’m not jealous, I don’t notice when you freeze me out)
She doesn’t love him, but he always will
(I always will)
She has perfected the art
(and an art, it is)
of the ice queen; the cold, unfeeling, the unaffected
(I wish you’d hold me when I turn my back)
And he, he thinks he’s winning some kind of twisted competition
(the power in a relationship lies with the one who cares less)
So they’re both stuck in this pattern where no one gets what they want and they’re slicing each other to shreds
But she’s convinced
(just a little more time)
And he’s deluded
(the less I give, the more I get back)
And it’s a choice
(oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise)
a conscious decision they’re making to destroy each other,
piece by excruciating piece,
(breaking down, coming apart at the seams)
because no one wants to lose
(this perverse game)
and everyone is terrified, desperate, not to be the one who feels first because there seems to be some kind of victory in conquering the heart
(I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you)
And it’s not a ruling she makes,
it’s a chain she’s shackled with against her will
(against your better judgment)
And he doesn’t seem to understand because he thinks he’s flipped a switch that allows him to dictate, control, wrangle his heart’s desires into something reasonable, rational, convenient, and selective
But she knows it doesn’t work that way because she never would’ve chosen this,
this hopeless, torturous endeavor
(complicated and messy and makes-you-act-like-a-crazy-person)
But the faster she runs, the harder the universe punches her in the face with it,
with him, with them,
(so she caves; against her wishes, in spite of her plans, with her brain screaming in the background)
He doesn’t love her, but she always will
(I always will)