Author: asherlev1 PM
Richard was the one who tried to seduce her, but Justin does it without even trying.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Words: 745 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 12-26-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4745056
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own the movie.
Richard was the one who tried to seduce her, but Justin does it without even trying.
She's had a million cases, each one more nauseating than the last; each one more interesting yet. She's Jessica Marie Hudson and she's Cassie Mayweather all rolled in to one, but somedays when the memory of Justin is particularly strong, she wants to be someone else all together.
She lives off her work, thrives on it like a plant flourishes on sunlight and water. She would be skin and bones without the thrill; body but no soul. That's why she's surprised when this case takes such a huge hold over her, casting her in its' iron grip.
She struggles; she'll give herself that.
It never lasts, because she always gives in.
She has to.
The first day after Justin's conviction, she gets an invitation to Richard's funeral. She's not sure what for, half-expecting a car of well-paid men to jump out at her and finish her off the whole way there.
When she arrives, she's not disappointed. He's shrouded in white, and she can't help but laugh.
Even in death, he's beautiful; aristocratic nose and pale skin shining under the gleam of the sky; Cassie can't help but wonder why even God seems to favor those like him.
She almost leaves, but something stays her.
And the memories flow.
Her pulse quickens a little at the thought of the two of them and that car, and she mentally slaps herself upon realizing her palms are sweaty.
She endures the whole process, taunting jabs and angry glares combined; when she gets home, she jumps Sam.
But she doesn't find relief.
The first time Cassie has a nightmare about Justin, she wakes up with a jerk to find a silent, solitary tear leaking out of her eye, and she remembers in her mind the haunting images; a tortured boy begging her for solace, and the cruel bonds around her heart that refused him.
She moves away from the bed then, leaving Ben behind, and makes herself a cup of coffee. Her father always said she liked to hurt herself; and so this once, she gives in to him.
She re-reads Justin's file: 16 years in prison. When he gets out, she imagines he'll be even more of an outcast then he once was.
Sometimes in the shower, she pictures him as a young Bill Gates, those years in prison his nine months in the womb. She wants him to do something great.
When Sam wakes up, he finds her asleep on her desk, multi-colored shawl wrapped pathetically around the tired shoulders of a pale-faced, broken woman.
One day, her sister visits, knocking the door as if announcing the presence of royalty. She cringes inwardly.
She is feeling good today, spry and witty. She supposes those are words more suited for a Puss in Boots type of character, but Ben has just proposed to her.
She is starting anew.
She opens the door, and leaps 10 years back into the past, imagining a dark hallway lined with dirty laundry and the ghosts of her parents floating about.
She wants to slap the smile off her sister's face.
But she doesn't.
She invites her in, and they talk.
They even laugh a little, over the butter cookies she brings out, and she remembers a forgotten birthday party. The shirt her sister wears is one she had gifted her a long time ago. Cassie realizes she has never been able to let go.
She rumages desperately around in her mind for something - andything else - to latch on to, and finds Justin. Her face burns at the very thought, and she wants to get up and puke.
It is then that she realizes her sister has gifted her the same poetry book Justin was reading the first day she met him.
She almost says no to Ben that day - almost.
On her wedding day, Cassie Mayweather-soon-to-be-Kennedy realizes she is a hypocrite and doesn't care.
Because she is suffering every day for it.
A/N: I know it starts off well, and then degenerates. My concentration got ruined by *certain* people in my house. And it all sounds like an excuse; but I figured I would put this up anyway.