Drabble: Happy Ones #4
Drabble: Happy Ones #4
Rating, W. Count: PG (borderline PG-13), 886 words
Disclaimer: They own each other. Or not. Well, we all own ourselves yes?
Note: Number four in the Happy Folder. It’s not as FLUFFY as the other ones, and I blame the sunshine that graced Seattle this wonderful weekend. The colder the weather, the fluffier I write. How else was I supposed to keep warm?
He held the script up when she entered their bedroom.
“What you got there?” she asked, as she pulled down the bottom of her sweat pants and lingered by her side of the bed in nothing but a worn out, small black t-shirt and unpretentious white, cotton panties.
She looked like she was eighteen, instead of twenty eight, and he thought that no matter the lines that would eventually crinkled her skin or the white that would seeped into her natural blonde hair, she’d always look so young in his eyes.
“The script you were reading.” She furrowed her brows in confusion, and he sighed. “It’s good Kris.”
She shrugged and climbed into bed, slipping under the heavy duvet and hogging the spare pillows.
He set the heavy script on the bedside table, turning off the small lamp. He could smell the lotion clinging to her skin and he instinctively reached over and played with her fingers.
“ I like it.”
“The script?” she asked.
“Yea.”
“I like it too.” She sighed and the quiet way in which she agreed spoke just how much she had liked the script.
“So why aren’t you taking it?” He asked, slightly confused. Earlier, he heard their answering machine record the desperate note of the movie’s representations, begging Kristen to consider auditioning for the part.
She sighed again and stilled his hand that was playing with her wedding band. “I don’t know Robert.”
He wanted to laugh at the uncertainty lacing through her voice. The audition was just formality, a procedure that seemed mute when the casting director and the director of the project specifically ask for her. He thought the role was perfect for Kristen, and if he had read the scratchy notes that was left all over the margins of the script right, she thought so too.
“ You’re perfect for the role.” He brought the hand that had clasped his own to his lips and kissed her knuckles in silent reassurance.
She turned her head and returned the gesture, his skin tingling with the remnants of mint that had clung to her lips. “Thanks.”
He propped up on his elbow and turned to her. “Seriously Kris. Why haven’t you taken the audition?”
She shifted away from his gaze and burrowed her face onto one of the fluffy pillows surrounding her tiny body. He heard a mumble of a response and he couldn’t help but laughed softly.
“Sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he smoothed back a handful of her hair and saw her brows furrowed.
“Kristen, you can tell me,” he gently prodded.
She sighed, but her face still contorted. “It’s stupid.”
“Well now I’m even more intrigued,” he cast her his most endearing smile and he was pleased to see the tension shifting away from her pretty face.
He let her breathing fill the silence, knowing that she most likely won’t tell him anything until she was ready. Her hair around his fingers coiled around and around and the clock down the hall chimed midnight. When the ringing had stopped and her breathing had evened out, he slipped his hand across her back and tucked in closer to her warmth.
“I don’t want to leave you,” she softly said against his bare chest, surprising him.
He looked down and was met with the color of green that resembled nothing of jealousy or sins, just two endless pools of reflections that always held him with the strongest intensity.
“I don’t want to take the job because I don’t want to leave you,” she reiterated.
“Kristen,” he sighed, not knowing what to say.
“The shoot is six months, and I know you’re going to be busy too, and I just don’t see how….” She trailed off and instead of finishing her thought, she kissed his chin instead.
After a moment of silence, he tightened his arm around her back and kissed the top of her head.
“Oh my dearest, loveliest Kristen.” He hummed out slightly.
“I told you it was stupid.” She replied.
“We can’t be newlyweds forever darling.” He commented with a slight chuckle.
“Robert, we’ve been married for two years.”
“But the title still holds for another year Kris,” he giggled and she sighed patiently, rolling her eyes with practice ease.
She tucked her head closer underneath his chin, her cold toes grazing his calves.
“That means it’s understandable that I don’t want to go away.” She concluded.
The hands on her back played with the ends of her hair. “Kristen,” he said quietly. “Take the job.”
“I know,” she whispered onto his chest, her breath warm and familiar against his skin.
He tilted her head up and kissed her softly on the mouth, gently sucking her upper lip without deepening the kiss, just a lazy pull and tug. Apart from her toes, she was warm as his hands ghost over the curve of her belly, over the valley of her breasts and carefully palmed her face.
“Take the job,” he repeated against her lips.
She nodded and kissed one of his palms.
“I just love you too much,” she told him and he didn’t doubt the feeling.
“Oh baby, I know you do,” and just like that, her shirt came off and he finally traced the trail that her lotion had made on her naked skin.