(Err, quick Mun note; I don't own Audrey, or Twin Peaks, or anything involving it. That Mr. Lynch and Mr. Frost, I just like to play with their toys.)
She shouldn't have slipped when she did. It had started out innocent, sweet; the primitive urge to feel another person's arms around her, to feel that ingrained warmth and closeness which had proved to be one of the hardest crushes that she had ever had.
She had always fancied herself smarter than this; smarter than her other friends who fucked and fell with her unspoken advice to them always being a mental "I told you so". She had guarded her heart under steel lock and key, but her life had been one head and heart let down after another. Crushes tossed away like rag dolls, family ignoring her, those who were supposed to protect her running off like the one last lingering ember of an ever warm bonfire; leaving her cold and jaded.
She shouldn't have fallen for him, with his dark hair and dark eyes and the way his voice always had a way of making her melt with one little phrase like, "Goodnight Audrey", or "Would you like to get some lunch?". She can't help the way she feels about him and she reasons that she might sleep better at night if she could just tear her heart out, erase every trace of him from her mind and soul.
He had done nothing wrong, her dark haired dream man with the golden tongue, and yet she felt that she had. She felt that in some way she was and still is betraying everything that those hard boiled bitches in her favorite film noirs had taught her. Lust was lust and she knew that, but this was different. Like every little first time in her life wrapped into the most incredible human being that she had ever met. A deep down, claw your hair out, toes in the dirt sensation that swelled and burst with every word from his mouth. She knew he liked her, enjoyed her for things other than the outer touches that make even the most vicious packages into pretty little things.
She wanted to tell him and hold him and love him and stay that way until her heart finally stopped beating all together.
'Too young'', he had implied over and over, ''you're too young."
And yet past indiscretions of the non relationship variety stopped her cold, tied her guts into knots and made her curl into a ball in the middle of the night and cry.
"Too young," she thought. Still in High School.
She wanted to vilify him, make him into some sort of monster for his honesty. She wanted to scream and scratch and tear him apart, the way he ripped into her with every little right-out-of-a-50's sitcom glance.
She thinks about him more than she would let on during her days and nights away from home. The explosion at the bank had almost literally knocked her back to next Tuesday and she found herself thinking about all of them, but it was her suit that stood out.
She shouldn't have slipped when she did. It had started out innocent, sweet; the primitive urge to feel another person's arms around her, to feel that ingrained warmth and closeness which had proved to be one of the hardest crushes that she had ever had.
She had always fancied herself smarter than this; smarter than her other friends who fucked and fell with her unspoken advice to them always being a mental "I told you so". She had guarded her heart under steel lock and key, but her life had been one head and heart let down after another. Crushes tossed away like rag dolls, family ignoring her, those who were supposed to protect her running off like the one last lingering ember of an ever warm bonfire; leaving her cold and jaded.
She shouldn't have fallen for him, with his dark hair and dark eyes and the way his voice always had a way of making her melt with one little phrase like, "Goodnight Audrey", or "Would you like to get some lunch?". She can't help the way she feels about him and she reasons that she might sleep better at night if she could just tear her heart out, erase every trace of him from her mind and soul.
He had done nothing wrong, her dark haired dream man with the golden tongue, and yet she felt that she had. She felt that in some way she was and still is betraying everything that those hard boiled bitches in her favorite film noirs had taught her. Lust was lust and she knew that, but this was different. Like every little first time in her life wrapped into the most incredible human being that she had ever met. A deep down, claw your hair out, toes in the dirt sensation that swelled and burst with every word from his mouth. She knew he liked her, enjoyed her for things other than the outer touches that make even the most vicious packages into pretty little things.
She wanted to tell him and hold him and love him and stay that way until her heart finally stopped beating all together.
'Too young'', he had implied over and over, ''you're too young."
And yet past indiscretions of the non relationship variety stopped her cold, tied her guts into knots and made her curl into a ball in the middle of the night and cry.
"Too young," she thought. Still in High School.
She wanted to vilify him, make him into some sort of monster for his honesty. She wanted to scream and scratch and tear him apart, the way he ripped into her with every little right-out-of-a-50's sitcom glance.
She thinks about him more than she would let on during her days and nights away from home. The explosion at the bank had almost literally knocked her back to next Tuesday and she found herself thinking about all of them, but it was her suit that stood out.