I really, really, do not have time to write this weekend. But I'm a bit emotional at the moment for various reasons, and when this song came on I just started writing. It's angsty, but that's the place I'm in right now, so there it is.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

One of These Mornings

One of these mornings,

It won't be very long,

You will look for me,

And I'll be gone.

One of these mornings – Moby


He loves watching her sleep. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, the way she sighs softly and moves against him without waking, the gentle smile playing at the corners of her lips as she's dreaming of something pleasant. He wonders if she dreams about him. He knows he dreams about her. Almost every waking moment is spent thinking about her, and she's still there when he sleeps, seeping into every corner of his mind.

Usually, he wakes before her, and enjoys the quiet moment when he can pretend everything is fine. That the beautiful woman lying next to him is really his, that the smile on her face really is because she's thinking of him, that this is real and not just a dream that is one day going to come crashing down around him. Because, really, he knows this is a lie. He knows she'll never stay with him; knows her goodness could never survive in his all too often dark world, knows that whatever they have – friendship, passion, love – is never going to be enough, not really, however much they want it to be.

He fears waking up to find her gone; reaching across the bed and hitting empty space, plummeting back to loneliness and trying to forget the euphoria he felt when he allowed himself to buy into this illusion that they are going to make this work. She won't stay with him forever – she shouldn't stay with him forever, really, is what he thinks. It's unfair to keep her from what she deserves. He isn't sure exactly what that is, but he knows it sure as hell isn't him. It's selfish, he thinks as he wraps an arm around her still-sleeping form, pulling her close to him. It's selfish to keep her to himself, when he knows he doesn't deserve her. She shouldn't stay with him forever – but he has a feeling that she won't know when to quit. She's stuck by him through so much, that perhaps she just isn't aware of how wrong this is, how much better her life could be if she wasn't with him.

He strokes her cheek lightly, and she stirs but doesn't fully wake. He fears waking one morning to find her gone, but the reality is, most likely, he is going to have to be the one to walk away. It's inconceivable, right now, to think of leaving her, not when it feels so perfect to be holding her in his arms, but he knows he can't keep her to himself forever. So he'll selfishly cling onto her, to them, for as long as he can, until the day comes when he'll have to do what she can't.

One of these mornings, she will look for him, and he will be gone.