Have You Ever Really Danced on the Edge? {Fuenciado}

Forget, Regret

****Vic's POV****

"Go take a shower, babe," I suggested. Jaime let out a sigh and slipped through the barricade of men. When the door shut, we got out of my bunk and filed into the backroom. Once the water was running, Mike spoke up.

"He's never dreamed about that stuff before," he said quietly.

"Actually," Chad sighed. All of our heads snapped up to her small frame in the doorway.

"Babe, I thought you'd gone to bed," Tony jumped up and ran to hug her. He had asked her to leave once Jaime had begun crying with hysterics; she didn't need to see her best friend that way. But then again, I didn't need to see my boyfriend that way. I guess we all have to man up sometimes.

"Can I finish?" she asked, slowly pulling away from Tony's embrace but still holding him close. "When this all started, when Jaime and I first met, he had these nightmares for a while. They were horrific, so fucking descriptive that I believed them! He would come out of his bunk almost dripping with sweat from his thrashing, and he'd come and watch TV with me all night until he felt better." She finally looked up from her feet and made eye contact with me. "They weren't always Vic, sometimes they were all of us. Sometimes they were individual, but mostly the band as a whole would die."

She finished and almost as if a curtain was pulled back, her eyes regained life; she was no longer in the past. She shook her head and shuffled back to her bunk. Tony escorted her, but when he came back, he closed the door and sighed. "So what? Jaime often dreams about death?" he asked.

"Not often, this is the first time since we've been together!" I explained and shook my head, recalling every sleepless night, but they weren't filled with fear, only love and intimacy. I sighed and got up when the water was shut off. We filed back out to the living room, Mike beside me and Tony close behind. Mike and I sat on the couch, whereas Tony took a spot on the floor. Jaime came out in his pajama pants and no shirt. I smiled, remembering all the nights back home that he'd come into our room this way, but soon be naked by my own hands.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked me. "Alone." I nodded and stood up to take his hand before he led me to the back room. I had a million questions to ask, but he went first.

"Do you have cancer?" he asked, no, growled.

"No, Jaime! You'd be the first person I tell," I swore.

"Are you terminally ill in any way?"

"Jesus, Jaime! I just said I'd tell you!"

He nodded and closed his eyes. I knew that he was thinking deeply, but the way his face scrunched was so adorable. I smiled and let out a soft giggle. He peeked one eye open and smiled. "Don't laugh at me," he giggled.

I pulled him into the tightest hug that I could manage, and we danced in tiny circles. "I love you, Jaime," I whispered as I looked up into his big brown eyes. He nodded, and just before he could say that he loves me, too, I pressed my lips to his. There was no teasing to be done. Immediately, our lips moved in sync as though they belonged on each other; our tongues danced together, exploring what they already knew.

Finally he pulled back and smiled at me. I grabbed his hand and smiled as his eyes met mine. We stood like this, eye to eye with complete silence, for nearly ten minutes, but it never got awkward. It was romantic really, as if some deep smothered flame was being brought back, and that much I could see in the way Jaime's eyes glowed.