~ 'Time passes us by and the way we love changes.' ~
Title and lyrics are from Changes by Sarah McLachlan. Another oneshot, perhaps someday I'll stop being an angsty bitch and write a happy one. Could be seen as a continuation of Not Alone, but not really. Warning of a little cheese and sadness, though ends somewhat hopefully depending on interpretation. Enjoy!
Her fingertips grazed along the ivory keys with feather touch, refusing to create a sound from them. At one stage the piano was her favourite gift, the place she could poor her heart and soul into. Now it seemed she had little emotion to do so. The piano picked up as much dust as the rest of her hobbies. Her passion was gone, her fire, her drive, it was all ripped from her. The minute the glass window smashed the life she knew shattered with it. Arms wrapped around her enemy, tumbling from the window, her life wasn't to be the same.
No matter how much she tried, how many times she desperately scrubbed at her body, the blood wouldn't leave her hands. The sins she committed were forever imprinted in her mind. The people she murdered, their screams still haunting her each and every day. Lives she was able to destroy so carelessly, so easily shattered beneath her grasp.
She once had an optimistic view, not anymore. She didn't deserve to have such thing as optimism; she didn't deserve to lead a good life after all she had done. Most of all she didn't deserve him, her partner, the man who stood by her from the very beginning. He always was naïve, couldn't see that she had changed. He argued the times have changed, but she always remained the same to him. A childish view of the man who didn't want to give up on her, couldn't let go of his past.
Her eyes glanced around the room, flicking over the photos that sat across it. He never changed them. She figured he kept up those photos for a reason, some warped way of trying to remind her who she really was. It never worked. If anything, the photographs mocked her, showed her the life she once led. The same life she would never lead again.
In particular one photograph always got to her. A picture of herself and him back in the STARS days. She picked it off the mantelpiece, running her delicate fingers along the smooth glass. He looked genuinely happy, a smile she'd never seen from him again since those days. So bright and youthful, his eyes full of sweet innocence. Now he was hardened by the images he had to see. His face had lines each one telling of the horrors he witnessed. And the frown never seemed to leave his features, always fiercely concentrated. His eyes narrowed and determined, the blue in them dulled along with his faith. Neither of them the same person they were. The same people they fell in love with.
"Come on…" His voice was low, breath landing onto her exposed neck, sending thousands of shivers down it. He traced his lips along the length of her neck, leaving kisses every so often.
She tried to ignore him, stiffening her back, she continued with her paperwork, pushing her glasses further up her nose. Flicking through the pages, she jotted various notes down the margins of them. He never was good at the paperwork, the physical aspect he loved, the shitload of writing and reports not so much. She however hadn't even been in STARS for a year, she figured it wasn't the time to push her luck.
"Jill…" His whisper made her tense up, eyes involuntarily closing. He had that tone, the one she knew all too well.
Glancing around, a smirk was plastered over his face; clearly he thought he had won. She let out a scoff and continued with her work.
Daringly he placed his hand over hers, stopping her from writing. She looked up, brow furrowed. He saw past it. Placing his hands onto her glasses, he took them delicately off, placing them on the desk. He wrapped his hardened fingers into hers as gently as possible. Pulling her onto her feet, he stepped her away from the desk, and turned her, pinning her up against the wall.
He brought his face down to hers, staring intently into her eyes. She closed her eyes gently, parting her lips as he moved closer. He dipped lower going for her neck. She let out an exasperated sigh at his teasing. Lips grazing against the soft skin of her neck, he nuzzled closer breathing in her light flowery scent. He left gentle kisses, softly sucking onto her sensitive skin. His slight stubble brushed against her, making the hairs stand on edge. A hushed moan escaped her lips.
Immediately she placed her hands onto his bicep, pushing him away from her. A satisfied smile painted over his lips, making her let out a small laugh and roll of her eyes.
"We can't Chris, Captain Wesker could walk in anytime, or worse Joseph…"
He laughed at her words, a small short chuckle. It brought a smile to her lips. At that exact moment, he looked so young and innocent.
"They won't…" He leaned over, flicking the lock to the door of the office closed. "Besides I don't care about them, they can think what they like."
"Because I'm not sleeping with them."
He moved back, continuing his assault of kisses. This time leaving soft trails along her jawline. His hands roamed over her figure. The curve of her waist, going into broader hips, he pulled on her body bringing it up against his, feeling her ample chest press against him.
Once again she gripped his shoulders, pushing him off her. She gazed into his eyes, trying to read what was beneath them. He gave her an inquisitive look.
"Is that all this is to you, Chris? Nearly eight months of just sex?"
His eyes widened, jaw opened. His teasing smile vanished, genuine concerned now plastered over his face. His hands stopped roaming her figure. He locked his eyes on her, boring into her bright blue eyes.
"Of course not…" She rolled her eyes, having heard the same thing many times before. He furrowed his brow, moving his hands to cup her face, bringing her sight back onto him. "You're so much more than that…"
A humourless laugh fell from her lips, her gaze averting his. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, rubbing on the smooth skin, before placing a lock of her brunette hair behind her ear and away from her face.
"You're beautiful. You're smart and funny." Her heartbeat increased with the genuine words which came from his mouth. Usually he was always light hearted, never serious. But this was different. He kept hold of her face, ensuring she continued to look into his eyes. "You're fiercely independent, but yet you show me your vulnerable side every now and again. You're the most caring woman I know, though you don't like to openly show it for whatever reason."
A small laugh escaped her lips. He grasped her hand, bringing it to rest on his chest, over his heart. She could feel each sharp breath he took, correlating which the steady beat of his heart.
"And I love you, Jill." His heartbeat increased to a rapid rate. A lop-sided grin played on his youthful features; as she continued stare open eyed. She'd never been told those words in such context before. And she never imagined it to be coming from someone like him. "So no, it's not just about the sex."
"I don't know what to say…"
"Start with saying you love me back?"
"I love you too." She whispered the words he dreamt of hearing from her.
A smile beamed over his lips, her face still one of shock. Grasping her face, he reached down colliding his lips against hers. With such tenderness it made her heart flutter, he gently kissed on her lower lip, sliding his tongue out to trace along her plump lips. She drifted her hands through the thick locks of dark hair, kissing him back with much more ferocity. Wasting no time, she slid her tongue out to match his, claiming his mouth as her own. They parted for air unwillingly. She kept their faces in close proximity, his musky smell driving her crazy. She rubbed her nose against his, before leaning up to leave a soft kiss on his already bruised lips.
Her eyes never left his. They were captivating, full of such love and devotion, so brave and strong. They were two souls meant for each other, fitting perfectly together. She never wanted it to change.
After the Mansion Incident it all changed. Their love took a back seat, the drive to remove biological threats coming to the forefront. That was the way it had to be. But with her return from Africa it was clear he wanted the love to be rekindled. She didn't feel the same. He always deserved better. She barely showed affection towards him, she took him for granted. And even still he stood by her, refusing to leave her side.
"What's going on, Jill?" She quickly stood, turning to the voice behind her.
His eyes were focused on the large suitcase at her feet. And then they moved and met hers. His eyes were pleading, desperately wanting an explanation. He knew what was happened but refused to believe it.
"I'm not getting any better staying here, Chris."
She lied. She wouldn't get better no matter where she would go. She was changed. She was leaving for him. She doubted how much he could take. His eyes were red, dark rings lingering underneath them, and each day he woke, his face seemed to become even more strained.
He took a step back, eyes leaving hers, he looked heartbroken. He opened his mouth to protest, no words escaped his lips. His eyes stung.
"I love you, Jill."
"How?" She forced her words out through gritted teeth, fury filled eyes locking on his.
How could he still look her in the eye, when she was unable to even glance into a mirror without being sent into a fit of rage? How could he still talk to her, when any words that left her mouth would just be bitter and hurtful? ...How could he still love her, when she had become the type of person he despised?
Her fist clenched, turning white. He always tried to do this, he tried to make her feel better, give her comfort, feed her false hope, tell her he still loved her. And she didn't deserve any of it.
"You're still the same person I fell in love with those years ago..."
She grasped the photograph, throwing it forcefully to the wall behind him. The frame smashed off the wall, shattering the glass into shards which scattered across the floor. He barely even flinched. She assumed he had become somewhat used to the mood swings by now.
"Don't say that! Don't you dare say that!"
"Why? Because it's the truth?!"
"The truth? You want to know the truth, Chris? The truth is I killed those people with my bare hands, and I have to pay for that each and every day!"
She screamed into his face. She hated to do it to the one person who truly cared for her. But he wouldn't listen to her, he was always optimistic, saying everything would be okay. It aggravated her to the point she would explode.
"You couldn't control it, Jill. Stop blaming yourself." His voice softened as it always did, always first to back down.
They all said she couldn't stop her actions; it was out of her control. But was it? She remembered vividly each crime she did, she could still feel the touch of the cold metal gun on her fingers, she could still smell the iron rich blood which poured out of their bodies and onto her fingertips. Perhaps more it was just she was so weak she hadn't the strength to fight it. She gave in to him, she gave up her control willingly. She was weak. Jill Valentine was a murder.
"I didn't fight it like I should have."
She bent down, picking up her suitcase, making her way towards the door. She could feel his hard stare, boring into her back.
"Jill, please…." His voice cracked she dared not turn to him. She never wanted to see the anguish she always inflicted upon him. They weren't meant to be together. She was haunted, poisoned by images of the past. She would never be able to forgive herself. He, on the other hand, was stuck in the past, living on the memories they once had. Neither were moving forward.
"It's never going to work. I'm the girl who's in love with you, and you're the guy who's in love with someone else... The person I used to be."
His eyes glistened with the moisture. She spoke the truth, deep down she figured he knew that, as hard as it was to accept. Her captivity had changed her, her views were altered, her feelings distorted. As a person, she had changed. Her feelings for him remained. Because beneath the now hardened exterior, he was still the same innocent caring young man. Same couldn't be said for her. She was an empty shell. Her cold exterior came from years of torment. And beneath it, she was numb.
"We're never going to be the same, Chris."
"Maybe we can make it better…"