AN: You know, I've never written a drabble series before. But this one was kinda nagging at me. And I do love writing non-main characters, even if I don't love them quite as much as main characters. They're blank slates, with more room to grow. It will, eventually, be BB. Because whatever, I'm still a sucker for canon.
It was magic, it was chemistry, it was like that ABBA song. Just one look and bam! They were retarded for each other. It was only her first week at college, the big-city girl who thought she'd seen it all, a cynic and a bitchy one at that. But he showed her there was so much that she hadn't seen. He was a soldier, three years older than most of the other students because of his time active service. He had muscles and scars from fighting, his eyes were darkened by what he'd seen, but man, when he flashed that smile it was like there was nobody else in the world but them.
He was young, she was young, they were both closet romantics for all their tough-people facades. She was swept off her feet, quite literally. A dashing man in armor. Who could resist?
They snuck into the zoo for their first date. It was long after closing hours and most of the lights were off, but they still tried to muffle their laughter and speak in stage whispers as they climbed the fence. A blanket in a copse of trees outside of the giraffe exhibit. Her first time.
They lay together afterwards, staring at the stars, laughing at absolutely nothing at all. She wished sometimes, that they'd stay like that. Forever.
But they couldn't. She was from a tough neighborhood, but she knew just enough of his past to know that he'd known worse, far worse. He would get that dark, dark look in his eyes sometimes and she knew that he was way too far away, in uncharted waters she couldn't hope to reach. Then he'd snap out of it, and laugh, but it never reached his eyes.
They fought. Well--high spirits, alcohol and stress, youth and hormones, of course they fought. But they were too stubborn to reach out to each other afterwards. Maybe they'd just never cared enough.
They were in the middle of another fight when he got the letter. When he came into her room, she looked up hopefully: he never apologized, really, they just sort of forgot about fights. But maybe something's changed. But no. His eyes were dark and his mouth was drawn. He looked older, far older than his years. He sat down on her bed as she looked up from her books and handed her the letter wordlessly, not taking his eyes off her as she read.
"No," she said when she stopped reading, her dark eyes huge as she stared up into his drawn face. "No, no, no, no! You can't!" He shook his head. She swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and took his hands in his, eyes imploring him to look at her and smile that godforsaken charm smile and pretend it was all gone, like their fights, like his past, like the scars from his father on his back.
"Don't leave me." But his eyes remained on his shoes on the carpet. He loved her. But not enough.
"I have to," he said. "God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Camille." She shook her head, tears falling already. The first of many, she thought.
"Don't call me Camille, Seeley." Her voice broke on his name.
"Don't call me Seeley, Camille." He tried to smile. It didn't reach his eyes.
"It's over, isn't it?" The tears had passed for the time being. She felt calm, with only the hard painful knot under her breastbone to pain her.
"I'm sorry, Cam." Will the man just stop saying that? He should say something else. She should say something. Instead, he just stood up. Looked backed at her once. Went out and locked the door. Then bent down and slipped his key under the doorframe. He was gone.