where you and i will always stay
Title: Regrets and Present Tense
Rating: PG-15-ish
Genre: RPF
Pairing: Sarah Wayne Callies/Wentworth Miller
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break, although I wish I did. If I did, there would be a lot more shirtless boys, and a lot more of the kissage. And I don't mean any harm to the people involved, I just like to play. *g* Although babyswc said they didn't care anyway, so whatev.
Summary: "I realise now that I missed out on something special."
Author's Notes: Wow. I haven't actually written anything in quite a while. But this came to me last night, because I couldn't sleep and I couldn't be bothered to do anything more productive. *shrugs* I'm like that.
This is for bichito, cause I've missed you while I've been working! *hugs*
Un-beta'd, cause I'm like that. *hides* I'm not forcing anyone else to jump onto the hell-wagon unless they want to. BTW, that's not an invitation.
Feedback makes me happy.
Suggested Soundtrack: I listened to The Kill by 30 Seconds to Mars, & Narc by Interpol when I wrote this, so, you know, go listen to them.
He's looking at her, glaring at her, and she knows that he's annoyed at her, but she's not even sure why.
"I have to go."
He starts to leave.
"I realise now that I missed out on something special." She says, stopping him in his tracks. "I would've said yes."
He turns to face her.
"If you asked me."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"I uh, I don't know." She pauses, looks down at her feet, "I would want to know if it was the other way around."
"And you think that I want to know this?"
He's angry now. She's never really seen him angry. He's always been quiet, reserved. This is uncharted territory.
"Why would you think that I'd ever want to know that?"
She's taken aback by how aggressive he is.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"I don't want your apology."
"I..."
"Or your sympathy."
"You haven't got it."
"Well, thank you very much."
"You know what I mean, Went..."
"No, actually, I don't think I do."
He's speaking louder now, quicker, but still enunciating every syllable as if his life depended on it.
"All this time, you've been sending me all of these mixed messages. You're interested, you're happily married, you hate your husband, you hate me, you love your family. And now you're telling me that if I'd just asked you what? To be with me? That you would have?"
He pauses, rubs his face with his hand.
"Make up your mind! What do you want?"
He stops, to catch his breath, she's not sure. But his words have more of a sting to them than any physical blow ever could. She feels as if she's been punched in the gut.
She realises that he's staring at her, his eyes drilling into her own. She looks away from him.
"What do you want me to say? That I want you?"
She pauses, she can't do this. He reaches for her, grabs her wrist. She looks down at his hand on hers.
"Fine,” she says, removing herself from his grasp. "I want you."
And as she turns to leave, he grabs her, stopping her with rough hands and a heavy kiss. She doesn't stop him, she should, but she doesn't.
Instead, she lets him push her against the wall and run his hands, oh his hands, up her body and come to a halt on the small of her back. He has warm hands, and the heat goes straight through the thin material of her shirt, onto her cool skin. She gasps into his mouth, shivers under his touch.
He won't let go and she doesn't want him to.
She'll need air, but she hopes that won't happen anytime soon.
Rating: PG-15-ish
Genre: RPF
Pairing: Sarah Wayne Callies/Wentworth Miller
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break, although I wish I did. If I did, there would be a lot more shirtless boys, and a lot more of the kissage. And I don't mean any harm to the people involved, I just like to play. *g* Although babyswc said they didn't care anyway, so whatev.
Summary: "I realise now that I missed out on something special."
Author's Notes: Wow. I haven't actually written anything in quite a while. But this came to me last night, because I couldn't sleep and I couldn't be bothered to do anything more productive. *shrugs* I'm like that.
This is for bichito, cause I've missed you while I've been working! *hugs*
Un-beta'd, cause I'm like that. *hides* I'm not forcing anyone else to jump onto the hell-wagon unless they want to. BTW, that's not an invitation.
Feedback makes me happy.
Suggested Soundtrack: I listened to The Kill by 30 Seconds to Mars, & Narc by Interpol when I wrote this, so, you know, go listen to them.
He's looking at her, glaring at her, and she knows that he's annoyed at her, but she's not even sure why.
"I have to go."
He starts to leave.
"I realise now that I missed out on something special." She says, stopping him in his tracks. "I would've said yes."
He turns to face her.
"If you asked me."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"I uh, I don't know." She pauses, looks down at her feet, "I would want to know if it was the other way around."
"And you think that I want to know this?"
He's angry now. She's never really seen him angry. He's always been quiet, reserved. This is uncharted territory.
"Why would you think that I'd ever want to know that?"
She's taken aback by how aggressive he is.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"I don't want your apology."
"I..."
"Or your sympathy."
"You haven't got it."
"Well, thank you very much."
"You know what I mean, Went..."
"No, actually, I don't think I do."
He's speaking louder now, quicker, but still enunciating every syllable as if his life depended on it.
"All this time, you've been sending me all of these mixed messages. You're interested, you're happily married, you hate your husband, you hate me, you love your family. And now you're telling me that if I'd just asked you what? To be with me? That you would have?"
He pauses, rubs his face with his hand.
"Make up your mind! What do you want?"
He stops, to catch his breath, she's not sure. But his words have more of a sting to them than any physical blow ever could. She feels as if she's been punched in the gut.
She realises that he's staring at her, his eyes drilling into her own. She looks away from him.
"What do you want me to say? That I want you?"
She pauses, she can't do this. He reaches for her, grabs her wrist. She looks down at his hand on hers.
"Fine,” she says, removing herself from his grasp. "I want you."
And as she turns to leave, he grabs her, stopping her with rough hands and a heavy kiss. She doesn't stop him, she should, but she doesn't.
Instead, she lets him push her against the wall and run his hands, oh his hands, up her body and come to a halt on the small of her back. He has warm hands, and the heat goes straight through the thin material of her shirt, onto her cool skin. She gasps into his mouth, shivers under his touch.
He won't let go and she doesn't want him to.
She'll need air, but she hopes that won't happen anytime soon.