Disclaimer: When I own it, I'll let you know.

A/N: I'm working on chapter three for Holiday Spirit but I was reading some fanfics last night and I really wanted to just try out this style. Growth in leaving my comfort zone, ya know? It's short, it's overly angst filled but that's what I was going for and Vix says that's alright. The title is taken from a mewithoutyou song.

Thanks to Vix and anyone who stumbles on this.

The music our collisions make.


He watches her silently with equal parts anxiousness, reverence and contempt. She evokes so many more emotions than that, too many to list in fact. Too many that exist for a breath and then dissipate in the expel.

She's inspiration, violent and alive.

She's anesthesia, making his blood slow and his chest numb.

It's two in the morning and he's the only thing conscious. The living room is filtered with static noise from the television and he's just sitting there in the chair off to the side, studying her as she sleeps soundly against Carly.

A defeated sigh and chuckle devoid of mirth are mixed for convenience and then swallowed in one non-existent choke.

He's always fucking watching her.


The betrayal against logic and his mental health is a malicious one.

His heart is a traitor!

His brain screams out that it must hang for it's treachery but he calms down the organ's bloodlust, sadly telling it that he has a sneaking suspicion they won't have to worry about things for much longer.

She'll take care of the hard work for them with an easy grin.


Clock hits two thirty and he sluggishly gets to his feet, weighed down by emotions he isn't really old enough to be plagued with yet nowadays, he was so much older than he use to be.

He pulls out a glass and stops in front of the kitchen sink, letting the water run and shift to a certain temperature before putting the glass under the stream.

It fills to about half full.

It fills to about half empty.


He's trying to figure out why he agreed to this because right now, nothing makes sense. This isn't the relief or release promised to him. This isn't fun.

In reality, there is no need for contemplation. He knows why, really.

It was her words, her touch; her warm breath tickling his ear and trailing heat down his neck, convincing him that a friend's with benefits type deal could work so beautifully for them. It was a lie, he saw no beauty, only hints of an appending storm but he nodded wordlessly and accepted her offer.

Because he's weak.

And even though she's not the cure, she's could be the placebo.


Lost in his thoughts, he's surprised when she comes up behind and sinks herself right into his body, arms wrapping around his waist.

He stiffens at the contact and he could feel the vibrations of her words against him.

"Relax, Benson."

According to her, it was that simple. He just had to relax.

He felt like screaming at her but he couldn't, he knew the conditions and terms coming into this. So instead, he shifts; turns around so that they were facing one and other. His hands find her hips and the curves burn reminders into the tips of his fingers.

She did not belong to him, she belonged to no one.

Their time was fleeting.

When she takes her head off his chest and looks up at him with those bright blue eyes, he swears he see's something more. Something more than lust and a need for an easy means to get her fix.

He could swear until his lungs emptied of breath.

He was wrong.

And he shouldn't blame her, this is just how she works. He knows that, he knows her better than any other person in this shitty town and on this dying planet, Carly included. This was all she was willing to give and he had to take it or stew in the pain of withdraw.

He did blame her, even though he shouldn't.

She knew he'd agree, she knew what it would do to him.


In the dark of the kitchen, their lips meet in a fiery car crash of desperate need for physical contact and desperate need for emotional contact. You can pair off what need belonged to which soul.

This couldn't go on forever, he wouldn't make it through forever.

There was nothing to worry about though, she'd end it soon enough.

His heart would hang soon enough.