Rougher and Tougher

If you told me mere hours ago that Alexander Galchenyuk, the guy who previously dumped me on my ass, friendless and seemed to be the most arrogant fucker this side of the border, was holding me as we watched Lady and the Tramp; I'd probably begin to laugh my ass off and ask you if you were high. However- I glanced up at Alex, as he stared totally absorbed in the classic children's movie, aimlessly stuffing hotel room popcorn into his mouth- I saw him in a different light now. Yes, he was still a royal ass but, he was a royal ass that saved my ass from god knows what downstairs just two hours ago.

"Quite staring at me, Jordan." Although the statement was warning, his tone was playful and he gazed down at me with his glorious smile and shining blue eyes. Every thought of reason told me to get up and leave but, something about him just struck me as-- intoxicating. I couldn't get enough of this stupid hot mess of a hockey player and I hated it with every fragment of my conscious mind for not willing myself not to get up and leave.

"Sorry," I sighed, leaning my head on his chest again, which after a second started rumbling with laughter. He always found something amusing, and although I loved his laugh, it was frustrating for me because I did so so much. No. I didn't. I couldn't. He was a draftee. I was a draftee. It didn't work like this. But what if it could?

His laughter died down, and his arm gave my waist a nice, gentle squeeze, "I like it when you stare at me. It makes me think you don't hate me." He paused, quickly giving a look of realization of what he had said, "Which is nice." He quickly added. I nodded, as he set his chin on the top of my head.

"Honey?" He asked, and I gave a groan of acknowledgment, "You don't hate me, do you?" He continued wearily, and it was my turn to burst out laughing. My brain was screaming yes, but my gut was hollering at the tops of its lungs no.

"Of course not." I sighed, it was answered completely based on instinct and I didn't realize what I said until it actually sunk in. My eyes shot to his like a bullet, and we just stared at each other for what seemed like a eternity. I could hear the movie go into the scene with Lady and the Tramp kissed while eating spaghetti. The music was soft, and I could barely hear it over the loud blood pumping in my ears. I wanted to look away and go back to watching the movie, but yet I sat still, just staring into his blue eyes with such intensity I would think my head would implode soon.

Suddenly my hand started moving from my side, and up his chest until, I was cupping his face; gently guiding him down to my height. No. Stop, I commanded myself but I wouldn't stop, and silently I really wished it not to stop either. He started getting the gist of the situation and he begun moving forward. I aimlessly begun moving forward too, until my lips were on his, and his were on mine. It felt amazing, like my whole world stop revolving and centered itself around him. Before I could even begin to realize what was happening, I threw one thigh to the other side of him and begun straddling him without breaking our kiss. Which all by its self was amazing. He had his hands on my hips, playing with the hem of my shirt, tugging ever so gently.

"Jordan," He moaned, his accent poured over my name and made me think that the syllables were meant for his mouth, and no one else's. The noise of my name snapped me out of whatever I was doing, and find some shred of my dignity. He pulled me towards him but, I pushed him away.

"No!" I said a little too sharply, "This isn't meant to happen. I'm a draftee. You're a draftee." I said, as a hurt look washed over his features. It killed me inside seeing that look on his face. However, I knew- I knew, this was the best thing to do in this situation. I clamored off of him, and backed away into the bed that was parallel to his.

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks, "We're going to the same team." I gasped, and his eyes were on the ground; it didn't matter how rational this was I'd always have feelings for him, and he would always have feelings for me.

"Alex-" I tried to say but, he cut me off as his hand came up to shush me.

"I think it's time for you to go." He looked up at me, and I could see the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over me. It was time for me to leave. I had caused him so much- a cool hand of hatred ran down my spine, not for him but for myself. I hated myself for doing this to him. Tears pushed at the back off my eyes, and my throat tightened up.

"I'm sorry." Was the only thing I said before turning away, and exiting the room. As soon as the door closed behind me, a single tear slid down my cheek.

This, of course, was for the best. But why did it hurt this damn much?

Notes

Well, guess what? It killed me to write this. They had so much potential. Okay, so I won't be updating that much because I'm working with my dad in the patch [oil patch for you noobs] and well- I don't really have many days off. It's not because I'm lazy; I swear. I'm just Albertan.

You're like:

Because, Kenzie's writing is the best! And I probably won't be updating for a few weeks.

I'm like:

Because I have a job, and I want a truck. :D