Ten
Title: Ten
Author: Viv
Genre: fluff.
Rating: G
Fandom: Simple Plan [music - band]
Pairing: Pierre/David
Disclaimer: *shakes head* of course they're mine, like, DUH!
Summary: That’s the number of… [ficlet - standalone]
One. Two. Three.
That’s the number of times Pierre blinks at you in shock at you after you look away and admit your feelings to him.
At the first, surprise passes through his eyes. During the second time he gapes at you. The third, his face pales and he remains quiet.
Four. Five. Six.
That’s the number of steps that separates you from him. Or him from you. You look at everywhere but him before suddenly noticing that the distance between the two of you slowly diminishes.
At four he pauses and looks at you. After five he sighs and divert his gaze from you briefly. At six he’s right in front of you.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
That’s the number of seconds he stares at you. Unmoving, silent, and you still can’t look up at him.
At seven he reaches up and cups your face, tilting your head up and forcing you to look up. At eight his breath is ghosting on your lips. At nine your lips are firmly yet softly met with his.
Ten.
That’s the number of times he randomly gently whispers: “I love you David.” into your ear over the rest of the day.
---
April 23, 2004.
Author: Viv
Genre: fluff.
Rating: G
Fandom: Simple Plan [music - band]
Pairing: Pierre/David
Disclaimer: *shakes head* of course they're mine, like, DUH!
Summary: That’s the number of… [ficlet - standalone]
One. Two. Three.
That’s the number of times Pierre blinks at you in shock at you after you look away and admit your feelings to him.
At the first, surprise passes through his eyes. During the second time he gapes at you. The third, his face pales and he remains quiet.
Four. Five. Six.
That’s the number of steps that separates you from him. Or him from you. You look at everywhere but him before suddenly noticing that the distance between the two of you slowly diminishes.
At four he pauses and looks at you. After five he sighs and divert his gaze from you briefly. At six he’s right in front of you.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
That’s the number of seconds he stares at you. Unmoving, silent, and you still can’t look up at him.
At seven he reaches up and cups your face, tilting your head up and forcing you to look up. At eight his breath is ghosting on your lips. At nine your lips are firmly yet softly met with his.
Ten.
That’s the number of times he randomly gently whispers: “I love you David.” into your ear over the rest of the day.
---
April 23, 2004.