i'd sell my shoes to be alone with you
Title: Breathing
Rating: PG-15 (maybe a little higher?)
Genre: RPF
Pairing: Lucy Griffiths/Jonas Armstrong
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like to play.
Summary: One afternoon, on a whim, he buys her a ring.
Author's Notes: This is a sort-of companion piece to Breathless.
Un-beta'd, cause I'm like that (you know, lazy, impatient, stubborn beyond belief). La la la, Hell-wagon, la la la.
Feedback makes me happy.
One afternoon, on a whim, he buys her a ring. He keeps it in his sock drawer behind the blue pair she bought him because she thought of him as soon as she saw them.
||
He loves the way her lips move ever-so-slightly when she reads.
||
"You have two options."
"And they are?"
"One: take me out to dinner."
Pause, (for dramatic effect).
"Or two: take me home and take me."
Pause, (also for dramatic effect).
"Tough choice."
He takes her hand and leads her to his car. She stops, lets out a breath in kind of a laugh.
With a smile: "So, I'm sorry, which option did you decide on?"
"I wonder," he rolls his eyes.
"No, really-"
He stops her giggling with a heavy kiss.
"Oh."
"Let's go."
||
He slides it on her finger, gently, after she kisses him one morning. Her eyes widen and he swears she's never looked more beautiful.
||
She follows him into his trailer and as soon as the door is closed, she's all over him. Hands on thighs, neck, back, stomach, legs, cheeks; anywhere she can reach without messing up his costume too much.
||
He makes a face.
"Uh, hun, what's with the face?"
"What face? This is my thinking face."
She stifles a giggle.
||
"I would have stayed with you forever."
"I know."
Sigh.
"Well, so long as we have that straightened out."
||
'& I'll never get enough of you.'
He never has the guts to tell her.
||
He never knew how anyone could promise to love someone for the rest of their lives.
Now, he doesn't think always is long enough.
||
"Care to dance?"
She smiles, he takes her hands and leads her to the open space in his living room.
"I didn't think you were such a good dancer," she says after a moment, he smiles.
"You always underestimate me," he steps back and twirls her.
||
He loves that she sings along to songs on the radio even if she doesn't know all of the lyrics.
||
It doesn't matter what kind of mood he's in, her smile always makes him smile.
||
He breathes against her neck, and she shivers.
She traces the line of his jaw with her finger, and he inhales.
His hands are warm against her skin, and she sighs his name.
Her heart skips a beat, and he feels it as his own.
She kisses him, and his grip on her hips tighten.
He runs his hands through her hair, and she bites her lip.
Her voice catches in her throat, and he kisses her neck.
He sighs against her chest, and she smiles.
She closes her eyes, and he breathes her in.
||
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you.
||
In the end, it always comes down to her. He needs her.
||
"Today was nice," she says, her smile reaching her eyes.
"It was."
A comfortable silence fills the air like a fog.
"I love you."
Her eyes sparkle, "I know."
He grins, kisses her. "How very Star Wars of you."
"I thought you'd like that," she lays back on the grass. "I love you."
He moves to lie next to her, takes her hand in his and kisses it quickly.
"I know."
"You are such a smartarse."
||
Eventually, he's going to break. Hopefully, she'll be there to pick up the pieces and put him back together.
||
She's like air in his lungs. When they're apart, it seems he's breathless; when they're together, he can breathe again.
||
"You are mine," she smiles, "and I, of course, am yours."
||
Fin.
Rating: PG-15 (maybe a little higher?)
Genre: RPF
Pairing: Lucy Griffiths/Jonas Armstrong
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just like to play.
Summary: One afternoon, on a whim, he buys her a ring.
Author's Notes: This is a sort-of companion piece to Breathless.
Un-beta'd, cause I'm like that (you know, lazy, impatient, stubborn beyond belief). La la la, Hell-wagon, la la la.
Feedback makes me happy.
One afternoon, on a whim, he buys her a ring. He keeps it in his sock drawer behind the blue pair she bought him because she thought of him as soon as she saw them.
||
He loves the way her lips move ever-so-slightly when she reads.
||
"You have two options."
"And they are?"
"One: take me out to dinner."
Pause, (for dramatic effect).
"Or two: take me home and take me."
Pause, (also for dramatic effect).
"Tough choice."
He takes her hand and leads her to his car. She stops, lets out a breath in kind of a laugh.
With a smile: "So, I'm sorry, which option did you decide on?"
"I wonder," he rolls his eyes.
"No, really-"
He stops her giggling with a heavy kiss.
"Oh."
"Let's go."
||
He slides it on her finger, gently, after she kisses him one morning. Her eyes widen and he swears she's never looked more beautiful.
||
She follows him into his trailer and as soon as the door is closed, she's all over him. Hands on thighs, neck, back, stomach, legs, cheeks; anywhere she can reach without messing up his costume too much.
||
He makes a face.
"Uh, hun, what's with the face?"
"What face? This is my thinking face."
She stifles a giggle.
||
"I would have stayed with you forever."
"I know."
Sigh.
"Well, so long as we have that straightened out."
||
'& I'll never get enough of you.'
He never has the guts to tell her.
||
He never knew how anyone could promise to love someone for the rest of their lives.
Now, he doesn't think always is long enough.
||
"Care to dance?"
She smiles, he takes her hands and leads her to the open space in his living room.
"I didn't think you were such a good dancer," she says after a moment, he smiles.
"You always underestimate me," he steps back and twirls her.
||
He loves that she sings along to songs on the radio even if she doesn't know all of the lyrics.
||
It doesn't matter what kind of mood he's in, her smile always makes him smile.
||
He breathes against her neck, and she shivers.
She traces the line of his jaw with her finger, and he inhales.
His hands are warm against her skin, and she sighs his name.
Her heart skips a beat, and he feels it as his own.
She kisses him, and his grip on her hips tighten.
He runs his hands through her hair, and she bites her lip.
Her voice catches in her throat, and he kisses her neck.
He sighs against her chest, and she smiles.
She closes her eyes, and he breathes her in.
||
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you.
||
In the end, it always comes down to her. He needs her.
||
"Today was nice," she says, her smile reaching her eyes.
"It was."
A comfortable silence fills the air like a fog.
"I love you."
Her eyes sparkle, "I know."
He grins, kisses her. "How very Star Wars of you."
"I thought you'd like that," she lays back on the grass. "I love you."
He moves to lie next to her, takes her hand in his and kisses it quickly.
"I know."
"You are such a smartarse."
||
Eventually, he's going to break. Hopefully, she'll be there to pick up the pieces and put him back together.
||
She's like air in his lungs. When they're apart, it seems he's breathless; when they're together, he can breathe again.
||
"You are mine," she smiles, "and I, of course, am yours."
||
Fin.