Fic: "You Can't Sing With a Broken Heart" 3/? (Lea/Dianna, RPF)
Title: “You Can’t Sing With a Broken Heart”
Author: Flynn
Pairing: Lea/Dianna (RPF)
Fandom: Glee
Disclaimer: How can they be mine when they belong to each other?
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Approx. 1315
Notes: How much angst can one relationship take?
Spoilers: None
Summary: Lea’s world is spinning out.
Part I Part II
I’m with Mark. My gut is in knots. I want to believe that her note could mean anything, that there’s an equal chance of it being innocent as there is that it’s untoward. The only thing I am certain of is that no matter how much I love her, I can’t keep struggling through the day, battling anxiety and fatigue and wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.
I angrily snatch the note from the mirror and crumple it before dropping it into the trash. “I can’t do this anymore.” Every choice she’s made with regard to him has brought me nothing but heartache. There are only two things that will make this particular brand of hurt stop. Dianna has to end it with him, or I have to end it with her.
The reflection in the mirror doesn’t look convinced when I say aloud, “She’ll pick me. She’ll pick us.”
After splashing some cool water on my face, I quickly walk the reverse path from the bathroom to the front door. With the decision made, I don’t hesitate. I can’t. Ignoring the dull pain in my heart and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I try without success to focus on what I’m going to say when I see her…. with him.
I bring up the GPS on my cell phone and enter in Mark’s address. They could be out, but instinct says that he’s taking advantage of the time alone with her and they’re at his place. The hollow voice of the machine seems loud in the small confines of the car as it directs me from our home to his.
Typical heavy traffic and an atypical thunderstorm combine to make the drive through the city slow going. And it gives me much too much time to think. I glance on the review mirror. I can see it in the reflection of my eyes. I’m wavering. My heart is still in it even though my head tells me to cut my losses.
Snippets of the fight we had to start the day flutter through my thoughts and it reignites the anger that has been a constant companion to the hurt ever since it started going downhill. The scenes flash disjointedly in my mind’s eye before the rhythm and cadence of the argument even out and flow steadily. Angry words were parried by accusations.
“You’re hurting me. And you know it. And it doesn’t matter to you.” I say it for what feels like the umpteenth time.
“You’re overreacting about this whole thing. And I’m so tired of fighting about it.”
Dianna may be tired but I was just gearing up. “You’ve spent every free moment you have talking to him about this ‘project’.” My voices drips with a sarcasm that I know is like nails on a chalkboard to her.
“It’s an exercise in art.” She raises her head slightly and places her hands on her hips taking on a defiant posture.
I laugh. It’s more of an angry bark than a guffaw, and it earns me a hard stare. “Bullshit. It’s porn.”
She has the audacity to look wounded, but I actually am, so I attack. “You’re taking pictures of his threesome. On what planet is that not porn?”
“He’s not going to have sex with them.” She exasperated because I’m making her defend this.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe he just wants to use them to get you all worked up so he can have sex with you.” Just the thought of it makes me feel ill.
Dianna’s eyes flash fire. “I’m not sleeping with him. How many times do I have to say it? And what does it say about us that you don’t trust me?”
She visibly takes a deep breath and I know her well enough to know that she’s making a last attempt to find an even tone before she continues. “It’s just a series of nudes, Lea. I can’t believe that you’re incapable of seeing that. You’ve had your own share of ‘tasteful’ nudity.”
Any hope she had of making the conversation more civilized flies out the window as my ire spikes. “Don’t you dare compare what I’ve done to what the two of you are planning to do.”
The width of the couch is the only thing that physically separates us, but we are yelling as though it’s over the roar of a rushing river.
She scoffs at me. “You’re right. It isn’t the same. The photos I’ll take for Mark are for his private collection. Your breasts are all over the internet courtesy of your ‘fans’.” The venom in her voice stokes my anger.
“Don’t try to turn this around on me.” Angrily, I start listing all the things I haven’t done. “I haven’t asked you not to do this. I haven’t demanded anything. I haven’t given you any ultimatums.”
“No. You haven’t.” The concession is brief, as her next breath brings an accusation. “You’ve just been punishing me for the past two weeks. You think if you keep at me long enough, I’ll change my mind.”
Before I can respond her cell vibrates on the coffee table and she snatches it up like a lifeline has been thrown her way. I can tell by the way her teeth are pulling at her bottom lip and the smile she fights off that it’s him.
The car behind me lays on the horn and it pulls me from the painful reverie. I floor it and scoot quickly through the intersection as the light turns red.
Dianna’s lost part of my heart. I wondered if she could feel it. Hell, I wondered if she even cared anymore. I would have given her everything. But from the moment I realized that my distress mattered less to her than her own pleasure, I started relaying the foundation of the fortress I used to keep around my heart. Every time she took his call, traded text messages, or exchanged erotic pictures, purely for research she assured me; I locked it down just a little more. It wouldn’t take much more to make it impenetrable.
The tinny voice of the GPS system broke the silence. “Turn left at the next light.” I glanced at the map on the phone’s display. One more mile. One more minute before I saw her beautiful face. One more minute of not knowing whether or not she was going to break my heart for good.
The reality of seeing her car parked directly behind his is a jolt to my system. I ignored the nearly overwhelming instinct to flee, to truly protect my heart and instead park the car.
My cell rings and I answer without looking at the caller id. My focus is on the front window and how little light is emanating from the edges of the blinds.
“Lea? Lea, are you there?” It takes a minute for his voice to penetrate my consciousness, but once it does, I’m immediately on alert. Cory is always laidback. Even when he is upset, he doesn’t show it. Not in his body language and not vocally. He sounds slightly out of breath and more than a little upset.
“Yes, I’m here. Corey, what’s wrong?”
“Where are you? Wait. Hold on.” He says before his voice becomes muffled. I’ve seen him on his cell enough times to know it’s pressed against his chest. But it must be pressed tightly as I can’t make out anything he’s saying very clearly.
The phone chimes again indicating that new a text message has arrived. I put the cell on speaker and call up the waiting message. Cory’s voice comes through clearly again just as the message opens. “Lea, it’ll be okay.”
The text message is blank except for one small item - an embedded photo of my girlfriend kissing Mark fucking Salling.
TBC
Author: Flynn
Pairing: Lea/Dianna (RPF)
Fandom: Glee
Disclaimer: How can they be mine when they belong to each other?
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: Approx. 1315
Notes: How much angst can one relationship take?
Spoilers: None
Summary: Lea’s world is spinning out.
Part I Part II
I’m with Mark. My gut is in knots. I want to believe that her note could mean anything, that there’s an equal chance of it being innocent as there is that it’s untoward. The only thing I am certain of is that no matter how much I love her, I can’t keep struggling through the day, battling anxiety and fatigue and wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.
I angrily snatch the note from the mirror and crumple it before dropping it into the trash. “I can’t do this anymore.” Every choice she’s made with regard to him has brought me nothing but heartache. There are only two things that will make this particular brand of hurt stop. Dianna has to end it with him, or I have to end it with her.
The reflection in the mirror doesn’t look convinced when I say aloud, “She’ll pick me. She’ll pick us.”
After splashing some cool water on my face, I quickly walk the reverse path from the bathroom to the front door. With the decision made, I don’t hesitate. I can’t. Ignoring the dull pain in my heart and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I try without success to focus on what I’m going to say when I see her…. with him.
I bring up the GPS on my cell phone and enter in Mark’s address. They could be out, but instinct says that he’s taking advantage of the time alone with her and they’re at his place. The hollow voice of the machine seems loud in the small confines of the car as it directs me from our home to his.
Typical heavy traffic and an atypical thunderstorm combine to make the drive through the city slow going. And it gives me much too much time to think. I glance on the review mirror. I can see it in the reflection of my eyes. I’m wavering. My heart is still in it even though my head tells me to cut my losses.
Snippets of the fight we had to start the day flutter through my thoughts and it reignites the anger that has been a constant companion to the hurt ever since it started going downhill. The scenes flash disjointedly in my mind’s eye before the rhythm and cadence of the argument even out and flow steadily. Angry words were parried by accusations.
“You’re hurting me. And you know it. And it doesn’t matter to you.” I say it for what feels like the umpteenth time.
“You’re overreacting about this whole thing. And I’m so tired of fighting about it.”
Dianna may be tired but I was just gearing up. “You’ve spent every free moment you have talking to him about this ‘project’.” My voices drips with a sarcasm that I know is like nails on a chalkboard to her.
“It’s an exercise in art.” She raises her head slightly and places her hands on her hips taking on a defiant posture.
I laugh. It’s more of an angry bark than a guffaw, and it earns me a hard stare. “Bullshit. It’s porn.”
She has the audacity to look wounded, but I actually am, so I attack. “You’re taking pictures of his threesome. On what planet is that not porn?”
“He’s not going to have sex with them.” She exasperated because I’m making her defend this.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe he just wants to use them to get you all worked up so he can have sex with you.” Just the thought of it makes me feel ill.
Dianna’s eyes flash fire. “I’m not sleeping with him. How many times do I have to say it? And what does it say about us that you don’t trust me?”
She visibly takes a deep breath and I know her well enough to know that she’s making a last attempt to find an even tone before she continues. “It’s just a series of nudes, Lea. I can’t believe that you’re incapable of seeing that. You’ve had your own share of ‘tasteful’ nudity.”
Any hope she had of making the conversation more civilized flies out the window as my ire spikes. “Don’t you dare compare what I’ve done to what the two of you are planning to do.”
The width of the couch is the only thing that physically separates us, but we are yelling as though it’s over the roar of a rushing river.
She scoffs at me. “You’re right. It isn’t the same. The photos I’ll take for Mark are for his private collection. Your breasts are all over the internet courtesy of your ‘fans’.” The venom in her voice stokes my anger.
“Don’t try to turn this around on me.” Angrily, I start listing all the things I haven’t done. “I haven’t asked you not to do this. I haven’t demanded anything. I haven’t given you any ultimatums.”
“No. You haven’t.” The concession is brief, as her next breath brings an accusation. “You’ve just been punishing me for the past two weeks. You think if you keep at me long enough, I’ll change my mind.”
Before I can respond her cell vibrates on the coffee table and she snatches it up like a lifeline has been thrown her way. I can tell by the way her teeth are pulling at her bottom lip and the smile she fights off that it’s him.
The car behind me lays on the horn and it pulls me from the painful reverie. I floor it and scoot quickly through the intersection as the light turns red.
Dianna’s lost part of my heart. I wondered if she could feel it. Hell, I wondered if she even cared anymore. I would have given her everything. But from the moment I realized that my distress mattered less to her than her own pleasure, I started relaying the foundation of the fortress I used to keep around my heart. Every time she took his call, traded text messages, or exchanged erotic pictures, purely for research she assured me; I locked it down just a little more. It wouldn’t take much more to make it impenetrable.
The tinny voice of the GPS system broke the silence. “Turn left at the next light.” I glanced at the map on the phone’s display. One more mile. One more minute before I saw her beautiful face. One more minute of not knowing whether or not she was going to break my heart for good.
The reality of seeing her car parked directly behind his is a jolt to my system. I ignored the nearly overwhelming instinct to flee, to truly protect my heart and instead park the car.
My cell rings and I answer without looking at the caller id. My focus is on the front window and how little light is emanating from the edges of the blinds.
“Lea? Lea, are you there?” It takes a minute for his voice to penetrate my consciousness, but once it does, I’m immediately on alert. Cory is always laidback. Even when he is upset, he doesn’t show it. Not in his body language and not vocally. He sounds slightly out of breath and more than a little upset.
“Yes, I’m here. Corey, what’s wrong?”
“Where are you? Wait. Hold on.” He says before his voice becomes muffled. I’ve seen him on his cell enough times to know it’s pressed against his chest. But it must be pressed tightly as I can’t make out anything he’s saying very clearly.
The phone chimes again indicating that new a text message has arrived. I put the cell on speaker and call up the waiting message. Cory’s voice comes through clearly again just as the message opens. “Lea, it’ll be okay.”
The text message is blank except for one small item - an embedded photo of my girlfriend kissing Mark fucking Salling.
TBC