<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/>Carlos gently forced her to turn and look at him as he answered her question. She averted her eyes, unable to look at him as he began to confess that he had loved her, that he was angry about allowing her to get away and to become the wreck that she was. She thought it was foolish he believed he could have changed anything, that he blamed himself for her own actions. He had given up and walked away, and she had hated him for that--but she also knew that she had deserved it. It was exactly what she had asked for.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"...I love you, Lea..." </span><br/><br/>Her heart began to pound at those words and she felt herself panicking at them. They weren't past tense. He was admitting that he still loved her, and she didn't know what to do with herself.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"Don't do that!"</span>she blurted out.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"Stop it right now! You can't do that! You can't love me! You just can't!"</span>she said frantically as she pulled away, untangling herself from the blanket and stumbling out of bed. Perhaps it was the drugs or maybe it was her memories that were making her react so badly to his confession, but she knew that she needed to get out of the apartment.<br/><span style="color: #FF80FF"><br/>"I'm not what you need! I'm not what you want!" </span>she argued, throwing her closet door open and grabbing a sweater, pulling it over her head.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"It doesn't matter how much I love you, you are not allowed to love me!" </span>she said nonsensically, unaware of the words she was blathering. She grabbed a pair of pants next, angrily stuffing her legs into them and pulling them up. She looked a bit crazed, but she hardly gave a shit.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I can't do that again. I can't be with someone again. It'll just end up like last time. I..."</span>she trailed off as she disappeared fully into the closet to grab some shoes.<br/><br/>On her way back out, she accidentally kicked a box open, the contents strewing across the flower. The action only seemed to unhinge her a little more as she dropped to her knees quickly, her hands grabbing pictures and newspaper clippings, stuffing them pack into the box with a frenzy that suggested the world was ending. She had begun crying  as she did so, mumbling apologies to the artifacts as she put them back in the box. When she was done, she shakily put the lid back on and shoved it back in the closet.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"I can't be here,"</span>she said raspily, as if all her emotions had gotten stuck in her throat.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "I just...I'll be back later," </span>she promised weakly, leaving before Carlos could even register all that had happened. The front door slammed and she was gone.