Fic - These Edges That Fray (Allison, Allison/Rufus, Rufus/Lily) PG-13, 1/1
Title: These Edges That Fray
Summary: She's just sorry it took them so long to get here. or ten facts you didn't know about Allison Humphrey.
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: 972 words. General Series spoilers. An early birthday fic for my lovely beta and friend,
stealmy_kiss. This was going to be super sekrit affair Rufus/Lily fic, I swear, but this came out instead. It may be Allison, but it's (hopefully) likeable Allison, and there's plenty of Rufus/Lily to go around. I really hope you like it. All mistakes are mine. Reviews are a lovely thing.
One.
Deep down, in the place where she stores the lies she’s told herself over the years just to make it through the day, she always knew Rosewood wasn’t about her. But Allison had figured (hoped, really) that since she had the ring on her finger, and had given him the kids, and the life, and her heart, that it didn’t really matter.
It did. It just took nearly twenty years to figure it out.
Two.
After she sells her first painting, she starts saving up money to leave; Hides it in between the fraying pages of Oscar Wilde, buried in the back of her sock drawer.
She doesn’t even think about taking the kids - they’d be happier with him than they’d ever be with her and she knows it.
Three.
Sometimes, she thinks, yeah, they were in love once. And maybe it was even during Lily and maybe after Lily, too. She thinks, most days that Dan and Jenny are the best things that ever happened to her and it’s partly because of him so that has to be a pretty good reason as to why she shouldn’t hate him as much as she sometimes does. But then she remembers that for years she’s been marking the fights and the lies and God, even their beginning with the name Lily and she hates him a little more for it each time.
Four.
She was seeing Alex long before Hudson. They met at an art exhibit in Boston almost six months before she walked out and she can remember everything about the moment she first laid eyes on him - right down the pair of cheap, peeling stilettos she was wearing. But what she remembers the most? The way he had looked at her like she was a godsend, like she was the most beautiful thing in the room, the world.
It had taken her breath away and six hours later, after drinks and dinner, as his mouth skims over hers, his hands trailing over the curves of her hips ever so delicately like she’s porcelain, perfect, he’s still looking at her with that look and she sighs, and kisses him back and thinks, Jesus, is this what I’ve been missing?
Five.
She doesn’t feel bad about it. Not really, anyway.
It only happened that one time and when she goes back she tries like hell to make it work, but Alex’s sigh is still in her mouth, her heart in his hands (she never knew love could be that easy) and all those wasted years is all she thinks about. Days pass, fade into months (and her heart stops aching for what isn’t, and starts beating for what could be) and the thought of leaving just gets easier to take.
Six.
Allison always loved Rufus more than he loved her, and she knew it too. But it the beginning things were shiny and bright and hopeful and he made her believe he felt the same. And maybe he actually did, she thinks looking back, because there are some things you just can’t fake, but in the end it was just easy and comfortable and Allison hung on for dear life because the only thing that scared her more than finding out her entire life was a lie was the inevitable change it would bring.
Seven.
When Jenny shows up on her doorstep a cold night in October, she goes to pack her things and can’t remember where she has placed her wedding ring. If that’s not an omen, she doesn’t know what is.
Eight.
Alex asks her once, as they sprawled out on the couch, his hand sliding under her t-shirt, skimming, feathery light, if she could take it all back, would she? To be honest, she really doesn’t know. She loves her kids with all her heart and that stupid, traitorous part of her still loves Rufus in spite of it all, just a little bit, but she thinks, sometimes, that if they weren’t there, it would have been easier to walk away sooner and save them both a lot of heartache. She thinks she’s an awful mother.
Nine.
She never did expect him to fight for her. Not really. They’re too old, and she’s too damn tired, and deep down, from the very first touch of lips all those years ago, she always knew that it wasn’t the fight he was saving himself for. So when he says, ‘it’s over, then’ with absolute clarity a day before Christmas, after twenty years of marriage and heartache, she’s not upset. She doesn’t cry. She’s just sorry it took them so long to get here.
Ten.
When she returns to Hudson, Alex is there on her doorstep, a cup of coffee nestled in his hand, that same smile on his face. She drops her bags at her feet the same moment he goes to stand, and something settles deep in her belly and she knows this is it. Allison meets him halfway and they come together in a mass of tangled arms and kisses. She holds him and sighs in his ear.
“God, I missed you,” he breathes, lips on her cheek, warming her against the cold New York winter.
It feels like home.
(end)
Summary: She's just sorry it took them so long to get here. or ten facts you didn't know about Allison Humphrey.
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: 972 words. General Series spoilers. An early birthday fic for my lovely beta and friend,
stealmy_kiss. This was going to be super sekrit affair Rufus/Lily fic, I swear, but this came out instead. It may be Allison, but it's (hopefully) likeable Allison, and there's plenty of Rufus/Lily to go around. I really hope you like it. All mistakes are mine. Reviews are a lovely thing.
One.
Deep down, in the place where she stores the lies she’s told herself over the years just to make it through the day, she always knew Rosewood wasn’t about her. But Allison had figured (hoped, really) that since she had the ring on her finger, and had given him the kids, and the life, and her heart, that it didn’t really matter.
It did. It just took nearly twenty years to figure it out.
Two.
After she sells her first painting, she starts saving up money to leave; Hides it in between the fraying pages of Oscar Wilde, buried in the back of her sock drawer.
She doesn’t even think about taking the kids - they’d be happier with him than they’d ever be with her and she knows it.
Three.
Sometimes, she thinks, yeah, they were in love once. And maybe it was even during Lily and maybe after Lily, too. She thinks, most days that Dan and Jenny are the best things that ever happened to her and it’s partly because of him so that has to be a pretty good reason as to why she shouldn’t hate him as much as she sometimes does. But then she remembers that for years she’s been marking the fights and the lies and God, even their beginning with the name Lily and she hates him a little more for it each time.
Four.
She was seeing Alex long before Hudson. They met at an art exhibit in Boston almost six months before she walked out and she can remember everything about the moment she first laid eyes on him - right down the pair of cheap, peeling stilettos she was wearing. But what she remembers the most? The way he had looked at her like she was a godsend, like she was the most beautiful thing in the room, the world.
It had taken her breath away and six hours later, after drinks and dinner, as his mouth skims over hers, his hands trailing over the curves of her hips ever so delicately like she’s porcelain, perfect, he’s still looking at her with that look and she sighs, and kisses him back and thinks, Jesus, is this what I’ve been missing?
Five.
She doesn’t feel bad about it. Not really, anyway.
It only happened that one time and when she goes back she tries like hell to make it work, but Alex’s sigh is still in her mouth, her heart in his hands (she never knew love could be that easy) and all those wasted years is all she thinks about. Days pass, fade into months (and her heart stops aching for what isn’t, and starts beating for what could be) and the thought of leaving just gets easier to take.
Six.
Allison always loved Rufus more than he loved her, and she knew it too. But it the beginning things were shiny and bright and hopeful and he made her believe he felt the same. And maybe he actually did, she thinks looking back, because there are some things you just can’t fake, but in the end it was just easy and comfortable and Allison hung on for dear life because the only thing that scared her more than finding out her entire life was a lie was the inevitable change it would bring.
Seven.
When Jenny shows up on her doorstep a cold night in October, she goes to pack her things and can’t remember where she has placed her wedding ring. If that’s not an omen, she doesn’t know what is.
Eight.
Alex asks her once, as they sprawled out on the couch, his hand sliding under her t-shirt, skimming, feathery light, if she could take it all back, would she? To be honest, she really doesn’t know. She loves her kids with all her heart and that stupid, traitorous part of her still loves Rufus in spite of it all, just a little bit, but she thinks, sometimes, that if they weren’t there, it would have been easier to walk away sooner and save them both a lot of heartache. She thinks she’s an awful mother.
Nine.
She never did expect him to fight for her. Not really. They’re too old, and she’s too damn tired, and deep down, from the very first touch of lips all those years ago, she always knew that it wasn’t the fight he was saving himself for. So when he says, ‘it’s over, then’ with absolute clarity a day before Christmas, after twenty years of marriage and heartache, she’s not upset. She doesn’t cry. She’s just sorry it took them so long to get here.
Ten.
When she returns to Hudson, Alex is there on her doorstep, a cup of coffee nestled in his hand, that same smile on his face. She drops her bags at her feet the same moment he goes to stand, and something settles deep in her belly and she knows this is it. Allison meets him halfway and they come together in a mass of tangled arms and kisses. She holds him and sighs in his ear.
“God, I missed you,” he breathes, lips on her cheek, warming her against the cold New York winter.
It feels like home.
(end)