Title: One Hour
Rating: PG
Summery: Mostly, if not completely, AU: He isn't coming. She's going to be discovered. She shouldn't have come. She turns to leave. She stops.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or any of its characters. At all.
Author's Note: Much, much thanks to ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
eponine119, my beta on this one.
4:15
She walks the length of the hallway one more time. She breathes deeply and checks her watch.
4:16
He isn't coming. She's going to be discovered. She shouldn't have come. She turns to leave. She stops.
Five more minutes. She'll give him five more minutes.
4:29
She can't stay. She can't afford to. She has too much to lose, they both do. She can't stay.
She turns to leave. A hand grips her wrist. She turns sharply.
"Sawyer."
She buries her face in his neck. Her arms circle his shoulders and up into his hair. Her feet leave the ground. She can feel his breath hot against her neck and his heart pounding against her chest.
"God I missed you." He all but growls into her hair.
Her fingers dig deeply into his forearms as he puts her down. Something in her, some instinctive force, makes her believe that she can hold him in place, make him stay.
"Told you I'd find you," he says smugly.
"I know you did," she replies. She runs her hand loosely through her hair, gathering her numerous thoughts. She freezes in mid-motion as she hears distant murmuring, and before she can think about what she's doing she is using all of the strength that she possesses to pull Sawyer around the corner.
He grunts when his back hits the wall and he attempts to ask her what the hell has gotten into her. She cuts him off by covering his mouth with her palm.
The voices fade away and she starts breathing again. She retracts her hand. He stares at her like she's lost her mind.
"What the hell was that?" he hisses.
She glances quickly around the corner, satisfied to find the hallway still empty. She sighs.
"It isn't safe," she tells him.
"From what? The disembodied voices down the hallway?"
She shakes her head. "My father, my husband..." She closes her eyes. "They are dangerous people. If they find out about you-"
"They won't."
"You can't know that." She sighs heavily and leans against the wall next to him. She wishes she were anywhere else, anyone else. She's wished for so many different lives it was getting so much harder to live the one that she actually had.
When she had been with Jin, she had been happy. At first. When she had married Jin, she had felt trapped. When she had learned what Jin had become, she had felt alone. They shared a house, a life, a bed, and she felt completely alone.
And then there was Sawyer, who made her feel happy and beautiful, and a lot less alone. The moments they spent together was few and far-between. She doesn't know where he goes or what he does when he isn't with her and she never asks. The only thing that mattered to her was that when he came back, he always found her.
She thinks that she could love him. She doesn't know if she does, but she could. But she does love the way that he makes her feel. He makes her feel worthwhile, strong, loved. She hasn't felt any of those things in a very long time and she clings to them desperately. She wants to keep them, forever.
Sawyer makes her feel, period.
She feels his eyes on her, so she turns and says, "You don't know them."
"Maybe I don't," he says. "But I know you." She looks up at him. "That's all I need."
She is pretty sure it is a line. But she is far past the point of caring. So as he pulls her back into the hall, in the direction of the room that he has paid for, she follows.
5:00
She stands in front of a mirror, fumbling with her earrings and desperately trying to avoid her own reflection.
"He'll be looking for me," she says, absently. Sawyer is sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt still hanging open, pulling on his boots. He nods, also absently.
"What's your hurry?" he asks as he watches her hurriedly search the room. She retrieves her misplaced pumps from underneath a chair and sits to put them on.
"I am trying to keep you safe." she says in a low voice, which is directed more at her lap then anywhere else.
"I can take care of myself." he assures her. She sighs and looks at him from across the room.
"I don't think you understand how dangerous this is." she says.
"I think you're underestimating me." he replies.
She nods and stands. "Maybe I am." he walks to him slowly, seeming disconnected, feeling disconnected. She stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. She looks down at him and he looks up at her.
"Or, maybe it is both," she adds.
He doesn't argue. Instead his hand is in her hair and he's kissing her. And she isn't disconnected anymore; she's alive and on fire and shutting out the part of her brain that was, not one minute ago, telling her that she had to leave.
She pushes off of his shoulders, panting for air. Her forehead comes to rest against his and her eyes close.
"I have to go," she whispers, pained. She thinks she might cry, but she doesn't. She steadies herself and opens her eyes. She kisses him as fast as she can and backs away. If she doesn't, she'll stay.
He nods at her from the edge of the bed and watches her walk to the door.
"Sunshine."
She stops, but doesn't turn around.
"I'll find you."
She nods. "I know," she says, and reaches for the doorknob.
5:15
Sun walks numbly from the hotel lobby out onto the busy evening street. She quickly pushes her way into the crowd, walking all the way to her house. As she turns the doorknob she is overwhelmed by the knowledge that this place will never feel like home again. She doesn't know where home is.
She sighs and opens the door.
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ficinabottle,
