Fic - We're Slow to Start in the Morning (Lexie/Mark) pg, 1/1
Title: We're Slow to Start in the Morning
Summary: Lexie always wakes first.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 500 words. Set circa season five. Written forever ago for lexiesloan. Edited and re-posted for archival purposes. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
Lexie always wakes first. The rain plays a gentle melody against the window, her breathing quickening as she opens her eyes against the dull haze, her mind digesting and compartmentalizing, fully readying itself for the day. These moments are normal, routine almost, and she allows herself them, allows herself a minute where she doesn't need to smile or be the shiny, happy Lexie everyone prefers her to be. These moments are much needed and she takes them when she can get them - when it's just her and her thoughts and the reminders of a dead mother and the perfectly planned life she left behind to take care of her father, to start anew in a world where there are one too many Greys.
The bed shifts behind her, the mattress creaking from the weight and age, and Lexie nearly jumps right out of her skin as she cranes her neck to look behind her, left corner of her lip curling upwards when she catches sight of Mark. He's curled on his side, right arm hooked under his head, his scruff spreading wildly across his face. She likes him like this. He's usually gone before Lexie wakes - sneaks out before the sun tries to rise in an effort to avoid Derek and Meredith and the fight they both know will ensue the moment the truth comes out.
Neither of them are ready for that which is why Lexie is surprised he's still here.
She moves until she's flat on her back, smile small but sure as she reaches out a hand to poke him. His eyes flutter open, his smile instant, and she know he awoke long before her. There is a moment where they just lay there, neither saying a thing or attempting to move, and she taps a finger against her thigh to the steadiness of his breathing and just smiles.
"You're still here."
"So it would seem," he laughs, the sound vibrating under her skin and he reaches out for her, fingers sliding against the curve of her jaw before tangling in her hair. Mark leans forward, lips dangerously close, but Lexie is all too aware and leans backwards and away.
It's a fruitless effort - her legs don't follow suit and find themselves tangled with his all too easily.
"We have rules about these things for a reason, you know," she remarks too casually in a way that says she is tired of secrets and hidden gestures.
Mark cups the palm of his hand behind her head and pulls her towards him. Lexie doesn't put up a fight, only presses her lips into a thin line, her eyes dancing in anticipation.
"I'm tired of playing by the rules," he says, dipping his head at just the right angle so he can slide his lips easily against hers.
Downstairs somebody fumbles around the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans clamoring and the smell of fresh coffee breaking through the haze. Lexie kisses him back anyway.
Summary: Lexie always wakes first.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 500 words. Set circa season five. Written forever ago for lexiesloan. Edited and re-posted for archival purposes. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
Lexie always wakes first. The rain plays a gentle melody against the window, her breathing quickening as she opens her eyes against the dull haze, her mind digesting and compartmentalizing, fully readying itself for the day. These moments are normal, routine almost, and she allows herself them, allows herself a minute where she doesn't need to smile or be the shiny, happy Lexie everyone prefers her to be. These moments are much needed and she takes them when she can get them - when it's just her and her thoughts and the reminders of a dead mother and the perfectly planned life she left behind to take care of her father, to start anew in a world where there are one too many Greys.
The bed shifts behind her, the mattress creaking from the weight and age, and Lexie nearly jumps right out of her skin as she cranes her neck to look behind her, left corner of her lip curling upwards when she catches sight of Mark. He's curled on his side, right arm hooked under his head, his scruff spreading wildly across his face. She likes him like this. He's usually gone before Lexie wakes - sneaks out before the sun tries to rise in an effort to avoid Derek and Meredith and the fight they both know will ensue the moment the truth comes out.
Neither of them are ready for that which is why Lexie is surprised he's still here.
She moves until she's flat on her back, smile small but sure as she reaches out a hand to poke him. His eyes flutter open, his smile instant, and she know he awoke long before her. There is a moment where they just lay there, neither saying a thing or attempting to move, and she taps a finger against her thigh to the steadiness of his breathing and just smiles.
"You're still here."
"So it would seem," he laughs, the sound vibrating under her skin and he reaches out for her, fingers sliding against the curve of her jaw before tangling in her hair. Mark leans forward, lips dangerously close, but Lexie is all too aware and leans backwards and away.
It's a fruitless effort - her legs don't follow suit and find themselves tangled with his all too easily.
"We have rules about these things for a reason, you know," she remarks too casually in a way that says she is tired of secrets and hidden gestures.
Mark cups the palm of his hand behind her head and pulls her towards him. Lexie doesn't put up a fight, only presses her lips into a thin line, her eyes dancing in anticipation.
"I'm tired of playing by the rules," he says, dipping his head at just the right angle so he can slide his lips easily against hers.
Downstairs somebody fumbles around the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans clamoring and the smell of fresh coffee breaking through the haze. Lexie kisses him back anyway.