I won't tell 'em your name |tag: MIMI! FINISHED

[cuervo]

Mimi wasn't completely convinced when Roger told her he had been tired since he woke up. Sure, everyone was tired when they first woke up. It was that hazy place between reality and dreams, between feeling alive and between feeling like a copy of a copy. But after you splashed enough warm (or cool) water on your face and adjusted to the bright light of a new day, you started feeling substantially better. Just keep your head up. Move one foot infront of the other. Sometimes, it was harder to wake up, especially if the shades had been pulled shut, or if you were experiencing a killer hangover. Will power came into play then.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly imagine..." Mimi teased in correspondance to his suggestive comment. Boy, it felt good to have this rhythm in their relationship again. That playful exchange. The comfort they experienced in these quiet moments. It never felt awkward. It was almost as if they could discuss anything in the world together here without worrying about the others reactions. Without worrying about being judged. But, somehow, Mimi still felt they were a side step short of acheiving that liberation.

"Roger..."

But she didn't want to talk now. He was still talking, a little. It seemed sad, as if he was fantasizing about their future from a distance. As if it felt far. But it wasn't too far, it was close, didn't he see? They could have anything they wanted. Anything they wanted.

She pressed her lips to his in a bid to get him to stop talking like that. About running away and being someplace else. While Mimi always enjoyed the notion of a vacation or a holiday, she wasn't sick of New York just yet. She'd never be. No matter what happened, the city would course through her veins and push her forward.

The talk turned better when Roger mentioned a bed. Mimi liked how the warmth of his hands felt, tracing her lithe body. "But I'm too lazy to move" she laughed. "We can make do with this couch for a little while, right?"

She rubbed his chest soothingly with both hands for a moment, and just starred into his blue eyes. After a few moments of silence, she cocked her head to the side slightly and sighed quietly.

"Are you sure you're fine today?"

[ROGER DAVIS]

"Oh, you couldn't, could you?" Roger murmured with an almost devilish grin as he walked his fingers up the side of her upper arm. "I could give you a demonstration, if you'd like." His hand slipped up to her neck, cupping the side of it. It was then that Roger realised yet again how small she was compared to him. He wasn't giant by any means, but she was so small, sometimes Roger feared that he might break her by simply holding her. The pad of his thumb ran over her lips, slightly chapped and he knew that both of them could be drinking more water. Both of them should be eating more. That's what the doctors always told them, but it was hard to drink when the water was turned off at random hours of the night. It was hard to eat when you had no food.

She spoke his name, almost a whisper and he knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to stop. Stop talking about leaving New York, when really, it wasn't that he wanted to leave the City at all. He wanted to stay where his friends where. Where his home was. He just wanted to leave the pain behind, and it was hard when it was staring you in the face sometimes. Her lips pressed against his, and he tried to melt away every fear, every impossibility away until all there was, was truth. Possibilities. His other hand came up, pressing against the other side of her head. His fingers slipped through the curls of her hair, getting specked and spotted by the glitter that now seemed to be a permanant part of it.

She broke slightly from his lips, and he licked his own, hearing her say that she was too lazy to move. She asked if the couch would be fine for now, and Roger felt himself smile slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, the couch is awesome." Roger agreed, placing his hands back on her hips. He moved, shifting her hips slightly against his as if trying to get comfortable. At her look, Roger smirked, stopping the movement of her hips. "What?" he asked, trying to look innocent. "I'm just getting comfortable."

When she asked whether he was sure that he was alright, Roger's smirk dropped slightly before he shifted, unlike the way that he had done only moments before. "Yeah, baby. I'm cool. Awesome." Roger told her honestly, closing his eyes at the feeling of her hands on his chest. "I'm just tired. And--" he paused, and lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. "Nevermind. It's nothing." Roger said, trying to distract her by peppering kisses on her neck. "C'mon, kiss me." Roger breathed out, his hands sliding up under the material of her shirt to the smooth skin underneath. Right. Like this was going to work.

[cuervo]

Mimi might've flinched back from the warmth of Roger's finger on her lips, but she resisted the urge. She felt anxious because she worried he'd notice the dryness of his lips if he focused long enough. Well, yes, he had all ready kissed her so many times today and from those experiences he had the opportunity to feel the rough surface that greeted him. But the wetness of his tongue and hers distracted from the texture of her lips, moistening them and masking the signs. That's all she could ever do - mask the signs.

The grip of heroin was still tight around her wrists, like ball and chain, she was thrown around by it. While the battle was still being fought, in the past she was able to determine whether she was doing better or worse. But now she could not tell if she had the upper hand or not anymore. Sometimes she felt confident, almost like she could live forever without the slightest hint of the monster. But Roger, there was always Roger, right there to remind her. She'd kill to save his life, but he was all ready fine. He and their friends had done all they could to save hers, and in the end, love reigned.

She shuddered slightly as he touched her, resting her face in the crook of his neck and allowing him to roam. When would this be over for good? When would she be able to stop hiding from him? Shouldn't that terrible memory of near death be enough to shake her from this lie, the lie that told her she could carry on doing this? Mimi wanted to toss junk out of her life for good, just as Roger did. Roger was strong, and so was she, he told her so. So why was she still hanging on by a few fingers?

"Rog, I'm not convinced" she said honestly, staring him down. Then, she sighed.

"There's also something I think we should talk about."

Mimi was both embarassed and scared to mention it, and she really didn't want to. Who knows what Roger's reaction would be? All this time he'd probably thought she was getting clean and feeling much better. But that was far from the truth.

[ROGER DAVIS]

His tongue darted out, flicking to taste the salty skin of her neck as he felt her throat rumble when she spoke about not being convinced, and then saying that they should talk. "I don't want to talk." Roger whispered, trying desperately to hold onto the moment, the moment that they didn't have to speak, where their lips and hips did the talking. "I don't want to talk." he repeated, his hands slipping down to the small of her back, fingers digging into her back.

He had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to talk about. He wasn't sure if she knew, but he had guessed that she was stll using. The way she looked when he woke up. The way she slipped out of bed when she thought he was sleeping. He remembered trying to control his tears in the pillow even just thinking of what she was doing in the bathroom.

"Please, I don't want to talk." He pressed his lips against her ear, taking her earlobe in between his teeth, trying to do anything to keep her from talking. He didn't want to her that she was still using, because he knew that it would tear him up. Even though he'd be willing to beg and plead, get down on his knees and plead with her to stop, he didn't want to. However, he gave it up, letting a sigh escape his lips as he closed his eyes. He let his head drop to the couch, eyes closed tightly to stop the tears.

"You think I don't know." Roger began, clearing his throat as he moved his hand from her hip to his eyes to vainly wipe at them. "But...but I've probably been shooting up longer than you have, Mimi. I shot up for five years. I know what to look for." The words were almost painful to say, and he felt a sigh escape his lips once more. "I just--" A laugh escaped his lips, a mirthless puff of air as he opened his eyes to look at anything but Mimi's eyes.

"What just fucking pisses me off is that--that you're in there and you think I'm sleeping. I'm awake and just lying in bed remembering how good that felt. And I feel like a fucking hypocrite. I lay in bed and just...god, I remember everything, you know? The way my heart pounded in my chest when I even just looked at the baggie. The way my hands shook when I cooked. The way the needle slid in and the way it just...spread. " Taking a breath in, he released it, hearing it sound wet and slightly tear-stained. Lifting his head up, he pressed his lips against hers almost pleading.

"Please, just kiss me, okay? I can't. I can't do this right now, so just kiss me."

[cuervo]

(Hey Rog, hope you don't mind me adding a pace to the thread. Let me know.)

While Mimi hadn't anticipated Roger would respond very well to her statement, she hadn't thought he'd be so insistent, or act so immaturely. He continued to roam his big hands along her tiny waist, the skin of his lips tickling her neck as he talked, strongly set against not speaking about the issue at hand. It twisted that knot in the pit of her stomach even tighter, and made her feel even more uneasy. Why did he have to make it so difficult to confront him, especially when the matter was important?

She stiffled a moan and furrowed her brow to the point that it made her cranium sore, unsatisfied with Roger's actions to try and distract from what she had wanted so badly to discuss for quite some time, and above all, his lack of support. But that's wasn't new. Even in the past when he was infinitely more acknowledging than he was now, he could have been more openly supportive and understanding. Instead, it just felt like he was playing the role of a dissapointed and ashamed father rather than a boyfriend who had seen it all and tasted it all, someone who knew what it was like.

"Roger..."

Suddenly, Roger stopped nibbling her earlobe, stopped caressing her in a manner so unnatural to the mood of doom their conversation had been taking a turn for. His voice cracked, and it appeared as thought he was struggling to retain tears. Mimi's heart wrenched at the sight, and at his words. You think I don't know. God, of course he was aware of her sneaking behind his back all this time - how could she have ever thought she could get away with it? When he laughed bitterly to add salt to injury, Mimi winced. She allowed him to continue, knawing into her lip so hard that she drew blood. Everything he said was true, every feeling he described having experienced in the past echoed how she felt now. Everytime she looked at the baggie, and that rush of relief and twinge of guilty pleasure she felt when she saw the rush of blood mix in the syringe...

For a moment, she was speechless - how could she possibly speak now? She shouldn't have spoken in the first place, after all. The sun had been shining, the sky brilliant blue and the passion between them had been happening so perfectly today. Now, there wasn't a chance they'd reclaim that, at least not until they could both move forward.

"That's not true, you're not a hypocrite" she replied lamely, for it felt in vain.

"I...I know you don't want to talk about it and I understand. But the reason I mentioned it was because...it's different now. I really, really want to leave it behind. That's all."

This was Mimi's confession of the day, the heaviest she'd had to share in a while. She waited, almost motionless, for Roger to say something. She'd be heart broken if he didn't, or if things escalated. Maybe he wouldn't believe that she wanted to commit to recovering, and he'd become even more upset with her. But the truth was, Mimi was sick and tired of being a junkie. Finally, she felt it was the right time for a serious change, even if it nearly killed her. She'd been near death before, so she wasn't afraid of that.

[ROGER DAVIS]

"That's not true. You're not a hypocrite."

A scoff escaped his lips as Mimi spoke, and he felt his eyes roll to the heavens, filled with tears that were threatening to fall. "Right. I'm not a hypocrte for wanting smack after two years. It's all I can think about sometimes. It's totally cool to think that it'll make everything better." The bitter words escaped his mouth before he had a chance to stop them, and when he heard the venom in his voice, not for Mimi but for himself, he instantly wanted to take it back for fear that she would think it was directed at her. Secretly, he wished for one moment that he could just take a hit and pass out in her arms, surrounded by the warmth of her and the warmth in his veins. "I just--I just wanna make it go away for a while. It's so easy and I hate it." Her words slipped past her mouth, honesty dripping from them, and it made Roger's eyes open to look at her. His brows were narrowed slightly as it seemed to take some time to process what she had said. She wanted to quit.

Roger remembered the last time she had quit. He remembered coming into the bathroom, watching her shake and jerk against the bathtub, and he remembered how light she felt in his arms as he picked her up, moving her to the couch. He remembered wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly as she trembled. He remembered holding her hair back as she threw up. How he listened to her scream and cry and plead for him to do something, anything for her. Listening to her groan, telling him she was going to die. It hadn't been the first time, because he himself had been through the same exact thing. He wasn't sure if he could do it again. He wasn't sure if he had the emotional strength to go through it again. But as Roger opened his eyes, resting blue eyes on her brown ones that were filled to the brim with tears, Roger brought a hand up to press against her cheek. He sniffed in, thumb wiping a fat tear that escaped her eye away. He lifted his head up, lips catching the tears. They were salty against his tongue, and for a moment, Roger simply sat, silent as he tried to focus his rushing thoughts.

"I was there the last time you got sober." Roger's voice escaped his lips suddenly, whisper soft against the skin of her face. "I'm gonna be there again. You were right, you know. Partly about the reason I left." He remembered the conversation they had outside the hospital that Angel was at in front of everyone, even though Mark and Collins had begged both of them to stop. "I didn't want to watch you die." Sniffing in, Roger pressed his forehead against hers. "I just didn't have enough sense to stay and help you live."

Truthfully, he was terrified at what the near-future held. Terrified for Mimi, for his own mental state. He was sure that he'd be able to keep a brave face for Mimi, but what would he be like when he was alone? He knew that at some point, he'd have to break. Everyone had a breaking point, and Roger's breaking point was still rather thin. He was terrified, but he did love Mimi, loved her with all of his heart and soul, and he knew that if asked, he'd die for her. So he knew, no matter what happened inside himself, that he had to do it for Mimi. It didn't matter what sort of state he'd be in afterwards. "I'm going to help you." he whispered surely. He brought his hands up, pressing them against her cheeks. "You have to let me help you, baby." There was blood on her lips from where she had bit down on it so hard, and Roger moved, running his thumb across, smearing the blood slightly before he moved, kissing her. He tasted the copper on his tongue, and he knew what it meant.

"You're a part of me now, whether I want you to be or not. If you die, I'll just...I know I'll just fade away." he told her, and he knew it was more true. He had been close to dying in Sante Fe, simply because he had been away from her. But if she was truely gone? He wasn't sure if he could deal with that again. He wasn't sure if he could deal with being alone. "You know, you're gonna hate me before this is over." he warned, knowing that the venom would be in her voice later tonight when she started her spiral towards the light. He wondered if they'd scream at each other like Roger had screamed at Mark when he had withdrawn. He brought a hand up, thumb rubbing across her cheek and under her eyes to brush away her tears.

"...are you scared?"

[cuervo]

God, why did I even say that?

Mimi wanted to smack herself silly. Here her dear Roger, who had once grinned mischeviouly with a twinkle in his soft eyes, now looked strained and distraught. His handsome face only smiled bitterly, tears bursting down his cheeks. Why did her tongue swell up everytime she had a dirty secret, like it had when she was little girl, around only him and no one else? It was that magic effect he had on her. It was in his kiss - that power to make her succumb to any wish. Of course, as edgy as he was, Roger was a gentleman at heart, and he'd dare not take advantage of her.

Hell, Mimi was a believer, but even she was nearely convinced that she'd never personally discover that special bond with someone else. Especially not in her current position - a nineteen year old junkie dancing on the wire in the Alphabet jungle. Who'd feel sympathy for her? She wasn't the only one suffering. They could pick from a wide selection of girls just like her. She remembered how Roger told her she was different from the rest of them, how she had some sort of spice that made her stand out. Mimi had laughed and accused him of trying to get into her pants faster, but in truth, she always regarded that memory fondly. She wished she could believe his kind words.

"I know, I know, hush love" Mimi replied in a whispery voice, trying her damndest to keep her voice strong for him, to let him know she was serious about this. She placed a hand on his cheek and gently wiped his eyes with the pad of her thumb as he continued to choke out his sentiments.

"I was so grateful, and still am" she smiled faintly, her own eyes threatening to spill tears. She blinked rapidly to hold them back. One lover weeping was barely enough to handle. It would hurt, just as it did back then. But no matter what would happen in the future, depending on how much longer they had (because no day was promised to anyone), they'd perserve together. Like the time before. How could she ever doubt him?

"No, Roger. If something happens to me, you carry on, understand?"

Her face hardenned, her eyes bearing into him like knives. It was almost as if her words were a threat, but she couldn't possibly intend them in that way.

"Love is stronger than death, don't you know?" she whispered, allowing Roger to press his forehead against hers. She sighed, their breath mingling and tickling eachother's lips before he closed to gap to kiss her, a kiss she willingly returned. What a stupid comment. Mimi could never hate him.

"I'm scared only until I see your smile, and feel your touch. Then I feel like I can win."

Oh, she would feel frightened, and angry, and desolate as the long hours of night scratched by. But Mimi knew this was the end of heartache, or, it would be as soon as she burried her strife. Once and for all.

[ROGER DAVIS]

I know, I know, hush, love.

A shudder of a sob escaped his lips as he looked at his girlfriend, feeling her wipe the tears that rose in his eyes. He moved, taking her wrist in his hand to place a kiss on her palm. She told him that she was grateful, that she was and would always be grateful, and he knew that even if she didn't say anything to him about what he had done or what he would do, if she never even gave him thanks or any ackowledgement as all, he'd do it all over again for her, because she was something that he cared for and would always care for.

However, her tone changed to almost harsh, her eyes burning holes into him and Roger found himself looking at anywhere but Mimi's eyes. He wanted to tell her no, to yell at her and tell her that there was no life after her. There was no life to go on after her, because he wouldn't be able to do it. Love was stronger than death, didn't he know, she whispered to him and Roger found himself kissing her, trying to stop her from speaking, to stop her from talking about the near future that they both knew was coming. Sooner or later, one of them would be without the other. He broke from her lips, sniffing in as he held her head in his hands. "There's nothing after you." he told her finally. "When I saw you die, I already had it made up in my mind that I'd kill myself." he wasn't sure whether he really wanted to tell Mimi what he was telling her, but he knew that it was complete and uter truth. He pulled back slightly from her to look in her eyes, his thumbs rubbing against her cheeks. "I told you once that there wasn't a soul inside of me." Roger told her, letting his eyes lift to hers. "You are my soul. YOu're the reason I'm going. Without you I'm just...empty."

I'm scared only until I see your smile, and feel your touch. Then I feel like I can win.

Roger moved, slipping his arms around Mimi's thin frame. "I'll be here. I'll always be her with you." Roger told her surely, his voice soft in her ear. His hands ran across the small of her back, knowing that soon, Roger would be holding her as she shook and cried, begged and pleaded for release. He tightened his hold around her, burying his face into her neck.

"I can go to the Man. Get some Valium or something to help calm you down." he wasn't sure what he'd be able to get from the Man, but he'd try anything. He didn't want Mimi to have to go through as much pain as he knew that she'd go through. "I'll get you something to take the edge off, okay? It's gonna be okay."