


muted recoil

by Pretty When You're Faithful



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-08-28
Updated: 2002-08-28
Packaged: 2013-05-14 21:11:36
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/938087/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/187149/Pretty-When-You-re-Faithful
Summary: daph pov. not very interesting, wouldn't reccomend you read it.





	muted recoil

TITLE: Muted Recoil AUTHOR: overly_utopian E-MAIL: cordy100@a... IMPROV: #12. rapt - crimson - despair- headlights - dragonfly RATING: PG-13, maybe R because it with rape, So I guess R, just to be safe. PAIRING (if any): Daphne, Justin VERSION (UK or US): US SPOILERS (if any): Justin and Daph's relationship, pretty much all of the first seson until 119. Many spoilers for 119. SUMMARY: Daphne POV on Justin. What happened to her after episode 103? My take... Grr... I hate summaries. DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. Damn. Everyone just HAS to keep bringing that up. ;-) FEEDBACK: I will grovel... ARCHIVE: Sure, just tell me first.  
  
You stood, rapt at attention, crimson despair running down your  
  
cheeks [which cheeks?]. Raped but warned. Hoped you wouldn't fuck it  
  
up again, so you waited, but he never came back that night.  
  
Neither of them did.  
  
Chased dragonflies through alleyways, hoping to catch a glimpse of  
  
pedophilia crossing the rainbows of liberty. He disappeared,  
  
obsession appeared in his place.  
  
Dejectedly, you walked back home alone, prepared for the usual  
  
barrage of racist comments, accusations, and reverse discrimination.  
  
You said nothing. No screams, cries, tears. Stood dormant, maybe it's  
  
to be expected? Perfectly normal to tell no one. Not even your best  
  
friend.  
  
Your best friend who'd already disappeared, even if you didn't notice  
  
it right then.  
  
It was ok. You were allowed to keep secrets too. He sure as hell  
  
wasn't telling you everything about his life anymore.  
  
You lied to him, ironically. Virginity was overrated, you told  
  
yourself. You were no virgin. Consensually though, perhaps.  
  
Used it to get closer to him, tried to reel him in, hook line sinker,  
  
closer than before.  
  
How much closer could you have gotten?  
  
"Please Justin please? I want my first time to be you." It was almost  
  
funny.  
  
The sex was amazing, at least to you. Nothing funny about it though.  
  
You saw fireworks exploding flashing lights tasted the fourth of July  
  
spilled stickly sweet salty punch and poppers.  
  
He saw you. Saw bland, boring, sidekick daph, only around for a few  
  
cheap giggles and maybe some gossip. His new life at Babylon [oooh  
  
ahhhh] was ten times more exciting. You'd been there and it wasn't  
  
all it was cracked up to be.  
  
You weren't enough for him, apparently.  
  
He ricochetted; Newton told you he would. Each action has an equal  
  
and opposite reaction. Warm cocoa melted pallidity. Burned the  
  
bridges. And to you there WAS a spark, he just hadn't seen it yet.  
  
Your parents didn't understand. Blurred barriers, nearly yielded to  
  
their distorted perception of interracial interaction. They claimed  
  
it had to do with pride, self respect, So, you asked yourself, why do  
  
you feel like shit without him?  
  
No more. You'd promised yourself you'd tell him. Reestablish a  
  
relationship whether he wanted it or not. At least get it out in the  
  
open.  
  
You tried to confront him, inform him really, and elucidate the blatant.  
  
Opened your mouth when he came to see you at the record store, to let  
  
something other than idle chit chat tumble through your trachea. You  
  
  
  
weren't expecting him so turned deer-in-headlights...  
  
I love you love you love you love you love youDAMMIT! You can't say  
  
it.  
  
He did come to see you after all, so let him speak first. What? What  
  
card? Friendship is the highest form of... inability to express  
  
yourself.  
  
You'd grown surprisingly accustomed to saying nothing, and it was made  
  
easier by the fact that you longer had anyone to speak to.  
  
You gave up. Seemed futile anyway.  
  
And when you felt yourself slipping away, you let him go. There was  
  
no point in stunting him, he'd bounced away that first night he'd  
  
banged Brian. Rebound. It was only natural, only fair. No use  
  
fighting with physics.  
  
So you closed your mouth, and let science take its toll. 


End file.
