[life] frecuency {dani/charlie} english
Still no Merlin, wow, rite? *amazes herself* XD
Fandom: Life
Title: Frecuency
Characters: Dani Reese, Charlie Crews {Dani/Charlie}
Rating: PG13
Warnings: no really.
Word Count: 257
Summary: It always starts like this: she is drunk.
Notes: For austen prompt: repair @ VAGINA FEST: ROUND TWO | Life fic ♥ No my ship (but, well, my ship didn't fit the fest anyway XD).
It always starts like this: she is drunk.
She shows at his door and stands on the bell until he answers. Only then does she smile, only then he looks away.
Usually, he gives her water, washes her head and asks her why?
Usually she says because.
Sometimes he hugs her, immediately, followed by a rush of oh, Reese that he repeats until she starts crying. (Sometimes). She clings to his clothes and whispers her day to his ear. She smells of liquor and smoke (but nothing else).
I’m sorry, he says. (Sometimes, she is not)
Once in a while, she sits in the porch, bottle in her hand, a mix between sober and drunk.
(Want?
You shouldn’t be drinking.
Shouldn’t. Am. Won’t. -and laughs.
Reese.
Crews.)
He takes the bottle from her, she rests her head on his shoulder.
Why?
To be here
Never does she kiss him, never does he think of it.
He hasn’t thought about her hands on his skin when she leans on him, or the way her lips move without sense (calling for help in silence). Never has he gripped her hands and kissed her wrists.
Never has he imagined her legs (long beautiful legs) crawling at his hips. Never has she knocked him to the floor when he opens up. Never has he dared love her.
Never has she dared not to.
It always starts like this: she is drunk.
Maybe, one day, it won’t. Maybe, one day, she won’t need fixing.
(Maybe then -only then- it will end differently)
Fandom: Life
Title: Frecuency
Characters: Dani Reese, Charlie Crews {Dani/Charlie}
Rating: PG13
Warnings: no really.
Word Count: 257
Summary: It always starts like this: she is drunk.
Notes: For austen prompt: repair @ VAGINA FEST: ROUND TWO | Life fic ♥ No my ship (but, well, my ship didn't fit the fest anyway XD).
It always starts like this: she is drunk.
She shows at his door and stands on the bell until he answers. Only then does she smile, only then he looks away.
Usually, he gives her water, washes her head and asks her why?
Usually she says because.
Sometimes he hugs her, immediately, followed by a rush of oh, Reese that he repeats until she starts crying. (Sometimes). She clings to his clothes and whispers her day to his ear. She smells of liquor and smoke (but nothing else).
I’m sorry, he says. (Sometimes, she is not)
Once in a while, she sits in the porch, bottle in her hand, a mix between sober and drunk.
(Want?
You shouldn’t be drinking.
Shouldn’t. Am. Won’t. -and laughs.
Reese.
Crews.)
He takes the bottle from her, she rests her head on his shoulder.
Why?
To be here
Never does she kiss him, never does he think of it.
He hasn’t thought about her hands on his skin when she leans on him, or the way her lips move without sense (calling for help in silence). Never has he gripped her hands and kissed her wrists.
Never has he imagined her legs (long beautiful legs) crawling at his hips. Never has she knocked him to the floor when he opens up. Never has he dared love her.
Never has she dared not to.
It always starts like this: she is drunk.
Maybe, one day, it won’t. Maybe, one day, she won’t need fixing.
(Maybe then -only then- it will end differently)