Fandom 35
Fandom: Gerry Anderson's Stingray
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Stingray belongs to Gerry Anderson/Supermarionation
Length: 365 words
Summary: Marina muses on the nature of her relationship with Troy. Troy-Marina-Atlanta love triangle-type thing.
When you cannot speak, looking becomes important.
I know what it means when he looks at me. His face glows like sunlight on water. At the moment, as we sit on the beach and I dig my toes into the sand, I can feel his gaze on me even under the sun. It is stronger today. Perhaps because we are away from Marineville. Away from Atlanta. He feels that he doesn't need only to look.
I know what it means when she looks at me. Her face never cracks, she always smiles, but that's what makes it so clear. Most people don't smile at you all the time unless there is something else they want to cover up. I wonder if she thinks I encourage him.
If I could speak I would tell her that I encourage him by not encouraging him. I would explain that for him, my silence is part of me because were I to talk, I would be casting ripples across the reflection he sees.
I don't know if I want to encourage him or not. It isn't that I don't like him. Sometimes the waves crash in my heart and I do like him, I want him, and the words I cannot speak swell up until I think I will be broken open like a ship on the rocks. But sometimes I am glad I cannot say, glad that the responsibility is his.
He has got up, is hurrying back with fruit and leaves for shade; half-worried that I have become too hot in the meantime, half-pleased that he is solving any such problem. It would be like this always. It wouldn't be so bad.
But then I think of Atlanta and the way she talks, the way she will mock the others if she thinks they are being silly, the way she can make jokes and how she wears a uniform and fights evil and still cries at night because he never looks at her at all, and I am afraid.
Were he ever to do more than look, there would be so many words lying like wrecks in my heart, and he would never try to unearth them.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Stingray belongs to Gerry Anderson/Supermarionation
Length: 365 words
Summary: Marina muses on the nature of her relationship with Troy. Troy-Marina-Atlanta love triangle-type thing.
When you cannot speak, looking becomes important.
I know what it means when he looks at me. His face glows like sunlight on water. At the moment, as we sit on the beach and I dig my toes into the sand, I can feel his gaze on me even under the sun. It is stronger today. Perhaps because we are away from Marineville. Away from Atlanta. He feels that he doesn't need only to look.
I know what it means when she looks at me. Her face never cracks, she always smiles, but that's what makes it so clear. Most people don't smile at you all the time unless there is something else they want to cover up. I wonder if she thinks I encourage him.
If I could speak I would tell her that I encourage him by not encouraging him. I would explain that for him, my silence is part of me because were I to talk, I would be casting ripples across the reflection he sees.
I don't know if I want to encourage him or not. It isn't that I don't like him. Sometimes the waves crash in my heart and I do like him, I want him, and the words I cannot speak swell up until I think I will be broken open like a ship on the rocks. But sometimes I am glad I cannot say, glad that the responsibility is his.
He has got up, is hurrying back with fruit and leaves for shade; half-worried that I have become too hot in the meantime, half-pleased that he is solving any such problem. It would be like this always. It wouldn't be so bad.
But then I think of Atlanta and the way she talks, the way she will mock the others if she thinks they are being silly, the way she can make jokes and how she wears a uniform and fights evil and still cries at night because he never looks at her at all, and I am afraid.
Were he ever to do more than look, there would be so many words lying like wrecks in my heart, and he would never try to unearth them.