Seasons of Love
Cole/Langston

When she got the call from Blair Cramer telling her that he was gone, really gone this time forever, she wept. Wept like she never had before; like she never would have even thought was possible. She had lost people she loved before – her dear parents, for starters – but this felt oddly different. There were so many emotions besides just grief wrapped around this ticking time bomb she called her deepest, darkest secret – shame, self-hatred, longing, longing to forget, longing to never forget, heartbreak, fear, guilt … love. She had loved him. Yes, she had. Deep down in the recesses of her heart in a secret place she had never shown anyone but him. It was wrong to love him, to want him, to need him, as much as she had. After all, he was her best friend's soulmate and her boyfriend's kindred spirit. She had had no right to feel the things she had from practically the moment they had met. She had encouraged Starr to be with Cole because she had never believed she would have a chance with someone like him. And she hadn't. Not until that autumn when they were both in counseling over losing their parents and he was using drugs and the whole world was falling apart, could they reach out to each other the way she had always secretly wished they could.

She sits by the fire now. It's nearly 75 degrees on a sunny spring day in Los Angles, and she's never felt so chilled. The only thoughts that warm her slightly are the ones where she closes her eyes and pictures him in that moment - the moment when he's hovering over her, his breath warm on her cheek, her name on his lips, his eyes hooded with desire for her. She remembers him pressing down on her, kissing her shoulder, telling her that once the barrier between them was severed, she would enjoy this. She did.

Even feeling so cold as tears run down her face, the memory of his touch warms her cheeks a bit with red. He had been so gentle, so surprisingly gentle, not anything like the abrasive jerk everyone made him out to be. It had been a special night but one they never spoke of to anyone. One they didn't even mention to each other. It had been a fluke, a moment of desperation on his part and a wish fulfillment on hers. But sometimes when he would look at her in a certain way, she thought he remembered it too. His eyes would grow a little darker and his eyelids would drop a hairsbreadth and the look on his face would make her heart race…

And now it was really over. He was really, really gone. She sat and cried for what seemed like hours before Markko bustled into the apartment and found her. He immediately scooped her into his loving embrace and asked her what was wrong. He had been at the movie studio all day, sequestered in a meeting, and he had no idea. She had to break the news to him that his very best friend in the world was gone. She should have left it there too. But she wasn't comforted by Markko's familiar touch tonight. And her tongue started racing away with her and as they both huddled by the fire in their "dream apartment", she prepared to tell him about the worst and best night of her life. The night she and Cole Thornhart had made love for the first and last time …