Fic - At the End of the Tunnel (Lily, Rufus/Lily) pg, 1/1
Title: At the End of the Tunnel
Summary: It is odd to her now, this closeness; it's an adjustment to have him near after years with nothing but space and distance and all the things they had forced themselves to forget between them. Early morning breathes familiarity.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 818 words. General series spoilers with specifics in regards to 2x14. Written for christinadagood who requested Rufus/Lily and the line tell me where we go from here, Rufus. Con-crit is both welcomed and appreciated. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
Tap, tap, tap against the window goes the rain and Lily’s eyes slide open slowly, adjusting to the heavy stream of dull light flowing in from the open window. She adjusts and sighs, shifts just slightly and feels the bed dip just slightly behind her.
“Morning,” Rufus says and her smile is slow and lazy as she pushes herself backwards, now fully in his embrace. His arm wrap around her, secure around her waist and they are odd, these moments. For so many years she had started the day with a tiny moment, just for herself, an anchoring of sorts as she remembered what once was and what is. A moment to grieve the life she could have had and be thankful for the one she received instead.
It’s odd to her now, this closeness; it’s an adjustment to have him near after years with nothing but space and distance and all the things they had forced themselves to forget between them.
“Hi,” she whispers, arching her head around so she can see his face.
He’s grinning. Then again, so is she.
She kisses him. She kisses him and it’s slow and lazy, resolute. Fingers in his hair and he angles his body towards her, a leg finding it’s way between her own. He kisses her back, sure and certain, pouring himself wholly into it.
It’s her favorite part of him, she’ll think later when she’s in the right mood to ponder such things. The way he puts everything he is into something he genuinely cares for. She can remember, rather acutely, the way things were once, the way he’d hold her gaze across a crowded room and smile like she was the only thing in it. She remembers things like that, lets them pass over her and settle somewhere deep because they are what she chose to carry with her for all these years, those lingering moments of promise.
“Jesus,” he breathes, pulling away, hair in her eyes and she’s glad she’s here. Glad she’s with him.
There had been doubt, of course, brimming under the surface after her mother spilt the secrets that Lily had worked so hard to keep hidden. There had been doubt and she had digested it, accepted it, because you reap what you sow and he didn’t deserve the kind of betrayal she dealt him. There had been doubt, naturally, and Lily had given up on the maybe and accepted what they were to each other, now, after that day at the train station; didn't let herself hope for anything more than the soft overture of something similar to friendship.
It’s a lovely surprise then, you see, the way he’s here, now, with her.
Lily pulls back and moves until she is fully on her back. He looks down at her, adoringly almost, finger tracing a lone line from shoulder to collarbone. She closes her eyes, breathes in the moment.
“Rufus,” she starts, just his name, and opens her eyes. He’s smiling at her again.
“Yeah?”
A smile in return, then, “I love you,” she breathes, like he didn’t already know, like she had been keeping this from him, too. His smile widens brilliantly, maybe, just maybe because he’s always known, even when she had somehow managed to trick herself into thinking otherwise, he was always there, always certain in a way she was never capable of.
“Good to know,” he says, lips near her ear.
Another kiss with her palm flat against his face, and her other hand presses firmly against the flesh of his back, moving with the rise and fall of his breaths. In this moment she is happy, floating, and when he pulls away again, she can’t help herself from laughing as she asks, “What are we doing?”
“I think it's pretty obvious,” he chuckles, the vibrations sinking into her bones and he pulls away fully, resting his head in his propped hand as he regards her softly.
She chuckles, too, and rolls her eyes. Old habits and all that.
“You know what I mean,” she says, turning onto her side. “Tell me where we go from here, Rufus.”
Lily half expects his face to fall, for him to move away if only a fraction of an inch as he remembered. There’s a moment, maybe two of limbo, where she wonders and worries, and the room is still sans the tap, tap, tap of the rain of the window and the sound of her heart beating in his hands.
“I think,” he starts and smiles again and it amazes her, even now, its ability to take her breath away. “I think we start with breakfast.”
Her lips curve into a smile against his lips when he kisses her once more.
Summary: It is odd to her now, this closeness; it's an adjustment to have him near after years with nothing but space and distance and all the things they had forced themselves to forget between them. Early morning breathes familiarity.
Rating: pg
Author's Notes: 818 words. General series spoilers with specifics in regards to 2x14. Written for christinadagood who requested Rufus/Lily and the line tell me where we go from here, Rufus. Con-crit is both welcomed and appreciated. All mistakes are mine. These characters, however, are not.
Tap, tap, tap against the window goes the rain and Lily’s eyes slide open slowly, adjusting to the heavy stream of dull light flowing in from the open window. She adjusts and sighs, shifts just slightly and feels the bed dip just slightly behind her.
“Morning,” Rufus says and her smile is slow and lazy as she pushes herself backwards, now fully in his embrace. His arm wrap around her, secure around her waist and they are odd, these moments. For so many years she had started the day with a tiny moment, just for herself, an anchoring of sorts as she remembered what once was and what is. A moment to grieve the life she could have had and be thankful for the one she received instead.
It’s odd to her now, this closeness; it’s an adjustment to have him near after years with nothing but space and distance and all the things they had forced themselves to forget between them.
“Hi,” she whispers, arching her head around so she can see his face.
He’s grinning. Then again, so is she.
She kisses him. She kisses him and it’s slow and lazy, resolute. Fingers in his hair and he angles his body towards her, a leg finding it’s way between her own. He kisses her back, sure and certain, pouring himself wholly into it.
It’s her favorite part of him, she’ll think later when she’s in the right mood to ponder such things. The way he puts everything he is into something he genuinely cares for. She can remember, rather acutely, the way things were once, the way he’d hold her gaze across a crowded room and smile like she was the only thing in it. She remembers things like that, lets them pass over her and settle somewhere deep because they are what she chose to carry with her for all these years, those lingering moments of promise.
“Jesus,” he breathes, pulling away, hair in her eyes and she’s glad she’s here. Glad she’s with him.
There had been doubt, of course, brimming under the surface after her mother spilt the secrets that Lily had worked so hard to keep hidden. There had been doubt and she had digested it, accepted it, because you reap what you sow and he didn’t deserve the kind of betrayal she dealt him. There had been doubt, naturally, and Lily had given up on the maybe and accepted what they were to each other, now, after that day at the train station; didn't let herself hope for anything more than the soft overture of something similar to friendship.
It’s a lovely surprise then, you see, the way he’s here, now, with her.
Lily pulls back and moves until she is fully on her back. He looks down at her, adoringly almost, finger tracing a lone line from shoulder to collarbone. She closes her eyes, breathes in the moment.
“Rufus,” she starts, just his name, and opens her eyes. He’s smiling at her again.
“Yeah?”
A smile in return, then, “I love you,” she breathes, like he didn’t already know, like she had been keeping this from him, too. His smile widens brilliantly, maybe, just maybe because he’s always known, even when she had somehow managed to trick herself into thinking otherwise, he was always there, always certain in a way she was never capable of.
“Good to know,” he says, lips near her ear.
Another kiss with her palm flat against his face, and her other hand presses firmly against the flesh of his back, moving with the rise and fall of his breaths. In this moment she is happy, floating, and when he pulls away again, she can’t help herself from laughing as she asks, “What are we doing?”
“I think it's pretty obvious,” he chuckles, the vibrations sinking into her bones and he pulls away fully, resting his head in his propped hand as he regards her softly.
She chuckles, too, and rolls her eyes. Old habits and all that.
“You know what I mean,” she says, turning onto her side. “Tell me where we go from here, Rufus.”
Lily half expects his face to fall, for him to move away if only a fraction of an inch as he remembered. There’s a moment, maybe two of limbo, where she wonders and worries, and the room is still sans the tap, tap, tap of the rain of the window and the sound of her heart beating in his hands.
“I think,” he starts and smiles again and it amazes her, even now, its ability to take her breath away. “I think we start with breakfast.”
Her lips curve into a smile against his lips when he kisses her once more.