DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my imagination. Characters belong to Open Book Productions.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: Assumes you've seen the first episode.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: From Ani's POV.

One More
By itsalovestory

 

Whoever said that if you love someone, let 'em go surely never knew the force that was Gina Brogno. It's fucking impossible to let her go. She's like a drug, and you're an addict jonesing for your next fix. And, you were doing so well in your time away from her in New York. It was almost like rehab. But, then you came back, and she gave you one look with those penatrating jade eyes. You fell off the wagon. Hell, you jumped off the wagon and skipped down the fucking road to her. She makes you crazy with passion. She makes you tremble with need, wet with want, and dripping with desire. You shake your head, because you never really had a chance to resist her.

So, you wake up with her warm, wet, and willing. All you ask of her is one more time. One more soft kiss. One more teasing touch. One more moan from deep within her throat. One more scratch from your nails down her smooth back. One more rush as you come wrapped around her fingers, around her heart.

She drives you crazy. But, you see through the layers of her smart ass bullshit. You found a broken woman with a broken past. Trying to fix her leaves you cut, like pieces of glass in your heart, shards covered in blood, in love, in pain, in passion. You tried to let her go. You felt her slipping away. But, how can you lose something you never really completely had to begin with? Like cool sand through your toes when you walked along the beach, you only stayed together until the strong waves took you both away, pulled you apart.

She says with a sighing whisper, "I don't think I can be what you need me to be."

You reply softly, simply, "I know." Because you do know, even if your heart refuses to believe it.

So, you walk away from her cold, dry, and heartbroken. All you asked for is one more moment. One more sexy shower. One more vanilla latte. One more glance at her. One more tender embrace on the shores of Venice. One more day. One more week. One more year. One more lifetime. One more anything and everything.

One more.

The End

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