The Angel's Guardian

Sleep over

"Don't you say that to me. Don't you dare say that to me after you just confessed you're going to be throwing your life away. For someone who doesn't love you, for someone who never will." I hissed, pissed beyond belief.

"I never wanted to hurt you, that was the last thing I ever wanted to do." His eyes told me he spoke the truth.

"You're being so selfish, Misha. Not only are you destroying you're chance at true happiness, you're taking Vicki's. You're destroying mine." I felt a single tear fall down my cheek.

He tried to wipe it away but I shoved his hand before he could, ignoring the throbbing it brought my bruised wrist. He looked pained at the action but I shrugged it off, as hard as it was to do.

"I- I'm sorry!" He looked like he was about to cry.

"No, you're not. If you were sorry you wouldn't be doing this, you can walk away from this! But you're choosing safety, you're choosing what you know you will be content with, you're choosing a life with a safety net. You're choosing her because you're afraid of taking a chance, you're afraid of it all. Well you know what Misha? I love you, too. I love you so damn much, I hate it."

I got up from where I was sitting on his lap, scrutinizing him with my glare. "I hate not being able to go to bed at night without thinking about you right before I fall asleep, I hate that you're the first thing on my mind when I wake up. I hate how I get dizzy when you're picture rings up on my phone. I despise that I know how you take your coffee with two milks and three sugars, or how you hate the color orange and can't stand the texture of sushi. I wish I never knew your favorite artists, your childhood ambitions, or the person you strive to be's.

He stood up, his figure looking down at me. I hated how short I was sometimes, it made me feel slightly small in this situation. Figuratively speaking.

"So I suppose you hate how I know that you would always prefer hot chocolate with cinnamon over coffee? Or that you like milk and honey in your tea? I guess you can't stand that I know you can't bare to look at wasabi and you hate the color pink. Or that you love to have your hair played with and you have an adorably weird thing for ear massages. How about the fact that you never leave my mind? Or that I am always thinking of excuses or lame reasons to call you, just so I can hear your voice!" He growled down at me.

"I hate it more than you'll ever know. Because those are things I want to share with someone I love. Not someone who is going to chose the person who they know is wrong over me." I turned around and walked away.

There was a few moments of silence before my name was yelled by him, I ignored it and walked a lot faster. He would follow me soon and I didn't want to hear it. We said everything that needed to be said, I only wish it had gone a little differently.

(Random A/N I let a random name generator pick between Jared and Jensen for the next scene since I couldn't) I yanked open the door of Jensen's sleek black range rover, forcing myself inside despite the pain that rushed to my ribs at the swift motion. I slammed the door shut behind me, locking it to show Misha, who had been following me, I didn't want his company. He pleaded with me for a moment to open the door, to talk to him, but he eventually gave up and walked away.

I sat in the car and leaned my head against the window. I closed my eyes, letting silent tears fall down my face. Wishing that things could be different, that maybe if I had done this or said that.. Misha would have that ring in his pocket for me. That his shaking hands from the nerves of asking would be worried about the 'no' I would never have said. Only they weren't, they were for a women who didn't deserve him.

I tried to convince myself that I was being selfish, to let it go, but I couldn't bring myself to think like that. Not when I knew they wouldn't be happy and more likely than not, divorced in the next ten years or less. Vicki would leave for a week at a time, giving Misha a half ass explanation of where she was going. She would return with new expensive clothes, jewelry, perfume. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, but Misha just looked the other way on it. Maybe because of his love for me? Maybe he felt that what she did justified his lingering touches for me. I don't know.