Prompt 144 -- Sunset -- Mistaken -- lordvisucius -- Original

[lordvisucius.livejournal.com]

Title: Mistaken
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Sunrise
Warnings: None?
Rating: PG-ish (for more "adult" concepts, I guess you could say)
Summary: It was a mistake from a start, and a relationship doomed to fail, but there was simply nothing to be done about that.

 

The moment they met, he knew it was a mistake. It was a mistake to look into her eyes and see himself in them, and think that they could be together forever.

 

And it was most certainly a mistake when he smiled and said hi and told her that they should go out for dinner because he didn't think that anything less would ever suit her stunning beauty.

 

She knew it was a mistake, but she accepted anyway.

 

"Of course, of course," she said, "I know a small place down the road from the park if you don't mind going somewhere small and quite a bit less fancy, and if you don't mind that I do have to go by midnight--oh, dear, I am no Cinderella, but I have something quite important to do."

 

He agreed, for he had no money to pay for anything more than small and less fancy. The date was set for tomorrow, and he left the grocery with a sense of pleased satisfaction around him.

 

"You look lovely," he told her, and she did, dressed in a flowing white dress and pearls and a great type of wondering happiness. She curtsied for him and laughed, but did not protest.

 

"Thank you, and you do look quite ravishing yourself." She took the proffered arm and let herself be led into the diner.

 

They ate--it was not extravagant but it was homely and delicious nonetheless. In the end, of course, it had gone so well despite the fumbles of a first date that they had to try it again: Saturday, at the park.

 

"I'll see you then," he promised fervently. "Shall I walk you home?"

 

He had driven, but she lived too close to bother with a car. "No, darling, I will walk. There is no need to take up your time."

 

"No, it is no trouble," he insisted, and she acquiesced because her heart lacked the resolve to refuse him anything. They strolled leisurely down the street, one arm across her shoulders and one other hand intertwined.

 

"Then I see this is goodbye," she whispered, lips against his in front of her door. "I will see you, my dear, on Saturday."

 

And then he was alone.

 

So it was nothing more than one more mistake when he walked into the shop to buy her a bouquet of flowering roses on Saturday morning, and no great deal of harm added when he decided to bring a picnic basket for the two of them, and no terrible amount worse when he decided that they simply had to drink champagne as well.

 

She did not wear a dress but looked no less beautiful, which he told her as soon as they met. She blushed, and told him that he was no sore sight himself. It was no mistake that started what he would later remember to be the best Saturday of his life, until she remembered that she had a meeting by two and simply must leave to get ready.

 

"Don't worry about it," he said, when she worried over the amount of food they had not had time to consume and the barely touched bottle of champagne. "I'll just eat it for dinner, and it'll not go to waste. Go on to your meeting, since I'm sure it's more than a touch more important than an outing with a simpleton like me. Shall I drive you home?"

 

She had taken the bus there and planned on taking the bus back, so it would have worried him if she refused. It was accepted grudgingly and she mused that it might have been worth it to bring her car even if she didn't want him to see what a wreck of a thing it was. If only.

 

"Thank you," she said graciously, letting him open the door and help her into the seat. "You've been great to me, dear, how can I ever repay you?"

 

He laughed it off. "Don't say it like that, as if we're not going to see each other again."

 

She told him to drop her off at the diner they had eaten at last time, because she was meeting a colleague there to take her to the meeting. They kissed in the parking lot, and he told her that they should surely meet again. "Of course, but I am busy this week. Will you wait until next Sunday for me?"

 

He would, and they would go to the beach at night. To watch the sunset. "Until midnight," she reminded him lightly, and walked away.

 

The bouquet of fresh-picked roses lay forgotten on the floor of the car. He picked them up absently and thought that he must get new ones, because these would not survive the week as beautiful as they were now.

 

He picked up a box of chocolates instead, lover's chocolates, that would be okay if she were not home to accept them. But he drove the half hour to her house anyway, ringing the doorbell and figuring that if she were not home he would merely come back tomorrow.

 

She was home. She answered the door dressed in nothing he would have imaged her in: a lacy nightgown and nothing else to speak of. The shocked silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable.

 

"Oh," she breathed. "Oh... oh... I thought... you were..." She trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.

 

"You were cheating on me," he said, absurdly, since they had hardly been together a handful of days and nothing more than a week. "Why? I thought... we could be together. I thought it would work out."

 

A violent denial, a shake of the head. "No, I'm not... believe me, this is just..." she shrugged, laughing with almost hysterics. "My job."

 

Her job.

 

"I'm sorry," he said finally, starting to turn. "I guess I was mistaken. That's all--just a mistake. Have a good day, then."

 

She watched him go, shaking her head to herself. It had been a mistake from the start.