“I don't care," said Seth. "I would have done it. I would have sold my soul for you. You and me...I told you. Something's always going to keep us near each other...even if we aren't together.”
“How come when mortals want things, their only option is to make a deal with Hell and sell their soul? Why can’t they make deals with God in exchange for good behavior?"
It was another of those rare moments when I’d surprised Carter. I waited for the glib answer I’d mentioned to Seth, something along the lines of goodness being its own reward. The angel considered for several seconds. "Humans make those deals all the time," he said finally. "They just don’t make them with God."
"Then who are they making them with?" I exclaimed.
"Themselves.”
“You were right to end it with us,” I said harshly. “And I’m not willing to do it again.”
He stared at me, shocked. My words were a lie, of course. Part of me wanted to try again, to endure anything to be with him. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Maddie. Couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt she would go through. It was ironic, really. Last time, he’d gone out of his way to hurt me purposely because it was for the greater good. Now I was doing the same for both of them, saving her from heartache and him from more grief with me. We were in an endless cycle.
“You can’t mean that. I know you can’t.” His face was a mixture of incredulity and pain.
I shook my head. “I do. You and me are a disaster. What we did during this stasis...it was wrong. It was disgraceful. Immoral. We betrayed someone who loves both of us, who wishes nothing but the best for us. How could we do that? What kind of precedent is that? How could we expect to have a solid relationship that was built on that sort of sordid foundation? One that was built on lies and deceit?” Saying those words hurt. It was tarnishing the beauty of these precious few days we had, but I needed to make my case.
Seth was silent for several moments as he assessed me. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.” I was a good liar, good enough that the person who loved me most couldn’t tell. “Go back to her, Seth. Go back to her and make it up to her.”
“Georgina...” I could see it, see it hitting him. The full weight of betraying Maddie was sinking in. His nature couldn’t ignore the wrong he’d done. It was part of his good character, the character that had gone back to save Dante, the character that was going to make him leave me. Again. Hesitantly, he extended his hand to me. I took it, and he pulled me into an embrace. “I will always love you.”
My heart was going to burst. How many times, I wondered, could I endure this kind of agony? “No, you won’t,” I said. “You’ll move on. So will I.”
Seth left not long after that. Staring at the door, I replayed my own words. You’ll move on. So will I. In spite of how much he loved me, how much he was willing to risk, I truly felt he’d go back to Maddie, that he’d believe what I said. I’d driven home the guilt, made it trump his love for me.
You’ll move on. So will I.
The unfortunate part about being a good liar, however, was that while I could get other people to believe my words, I didn’t believe them myself.”
“Jesus," I said. "That was bad."
Seth looked startled—and then hurt. "Bad?"
"No, not performance bad—more like dirty, wicked bad. The kind of stuff that gets an R rating."
"What, we can't do that?" He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling my neck.
"Well, yeah...er, well, damn it. We're not supposed to be. Not at all. It's just that last time, it was like...I don't know. It was making love. This time it was..."
"Fucking?" he supplied.
"Oh God," I groaned. "Seth Mortensen just said 'fucking' out loud. The end times are near.”
“I don’t know how you do it. You aren’t even blond. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly you’re a brunette. I just don’t see guys going for that.”
“Yeah, well, some people are into kinky stuff, I guess.”
“Just because things don't work out, it doesn't mean there aren't other people you can't love. Love is too big a thing for you to go without it in life.”
“Seth's quote from his book:
"And if I only could
I'd make a deal with God and I'd get Him to swap our places"
-"Running up that Hill" by Kate Bush”
“Georgina," He murmured, pulling me closer. "You are the world.”
“Oh God," I groaned, "Seth Mortensen just said 'fucking' out loud. The end of times are near.”
“The best jury of your peers that you’ll ever find is…well, you. Only you know what you’re capable of and what you want to be.”
“You can't," I murmured, swallowing the tears back with great effort. "You can't keep saving me, can't keep trying to. It's too late."
"No," he said. His heart was in his eyes, and it was ripping mine apart. "Not for you. Never.”
“i will always love you."
"no you won't. you'll move on. So will i.”
“I stared. "Canadian Satanists? You're sending me to a group of Canadian Satanists?”
“Hell if I know. That's for smart people like you to figure out. I'm just trying to get college guys to speed up their blow jobs.”
“We've had to deal with so many complications. We're still dealing with them. And what can we do? Nothing - well, unless we take your side's point of view and make deals with the devil. But why? Why can't we make deals with God?
People do all the time. 'God, if you do this for me, I promise to be good.' Stuff like that.
Yeah, but I don't see any contracts like you guys have. No hard evidence that it works. How come we can only get things we want by being bad? Why can't we get them by being good?”
“Sometimes it takes more courage to know when to retreat than to keep fighting.”
“I stared, hoping my mouth hadn't dropped opened or anything embarrassing like that.”
“I hope you had an entertaining time following me around.” I took my keys out.
“You should be a reality show,” he said. “It’s that good. And you know, I might be a totally unstable former assassin, but man. You manage to shock even me.”
“Seth, we can't...not again...it's..."
"I know," he said. At last, he crossed the threshold. "And I told myself...told myself I'd let it go...but I haven't stopped thinking about you since yesterday. And after tonight." Hesitantly, as though afraid someone might be lurking, he shut the door behind him. "Just the way you looked out there. It was...amazing. Believe me, I didn't screw up dancing because I'm bad at it-which I am. It's because I wasn't thinking about it at all. I was thinking about you. God, I couldn't stop. And it's not just how sexy you are tonight. It was more. It was the way you lit up the room, the way you charmed everyone and made them happy. You don't need any special powers to do that, Georgina. It's just in you, part of who you are. How funny you are, how smart. It's what made me fall in love you back then, and it's what..." He didn't finish, and I was glad. If he had said "...makes me love you now," I wouldn't have been able to handle it.”
“Only now, standing with him, I realized it wouldn’t be enough. It would only hurt more now, knowing exactly what I could never have again. I would never make love with Seth again, never have these intimate moments of comfort and rapport. He wasn’t mine anymore. He never could be again.”
“Hey,” he replied. “You look beautiful today.”
I glanced down and laughed. Along with my limited wardrobe, I was also discovering that not doing laundry decreased my clothing options even further. I was in jeans and a plain black T-shirt today, and my hair had been lucky to get a quick brushing, let alone any real styling. I’d overslept and figured beachcombing didn’t require much primping anyway.
“Liar,” I said. “I practically rolled out of bed this morning.”
“You forget that I’ve seen you in just about every state imaginable. You don’t have to have every detail primped and perfect. You’re beautiful even when you’re disheveled. Sometimes more so.”
“What can't be cured must be endured.”
“No, darling! To die it's easy... But you have to stuggle for life!”
“It’s really hard to do nothing totally. Even just sitting here, like this, our bodies are churning, our minds are chattering. There’s a whole commotion going on inside us.”
“One minute it was Ohio winter, with doors closed, windows locked, the panes blind with frost, icicles fringing every roof, children skiing on slopes, housewives lumbering like great black bears in their furs along the icy streets.
And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer's ancient green lawns.
Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground.
Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky.
The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land....”
“The further one goes, the less one knows.”
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