Hiding
Rating: PG
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Yorkeses
Prompt: Anger
Notes: For the Lover100 challenge.
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: Stacey has quite a temper.
037: Anger
His Stacey had quite a temper. She could yell and throw things and rage with the best.
The second was why he was hiding in the garage.
He really wished she wouldn’t throw their front around. The lamp that had shattered on the door was from 1927 and very valuable. It wouldn’t do to lose their livelihood and their cover over a few stupid artifacts.
Then again, he also wished she hadn’t flown off the handle.
It wasn’t as though she had a short fuse. It was just that, lately, he’d been setting it off more and more. He knew she hated it here, but he couldn’t do anything about it, and every time he tried to make things more comfortable for her, it seemed to blow up in his face.
He hid behind the car. She tapped on the door.
"Yes?" he called.
"Dale?"
"Over here, darling."
He stood up and tried to pretend he’d been looking for something. She didn’t buy it.
"Hiding from me, eh?" she asked miserably.
He hung his head and guiltily replied, "Yes."
She sighed. "Don’t blame you. I’d hide form me, too."
He made it to her in a few strides. Brushed her hair out of her face.
"I’m sorry," she mumbled.
"Don’t be. I’m sorry I provoked you," he replied.
"You didn’t. So I’m sorry."
Dale tilted her face up and lost himself in her eyes. Pools of green and deeper and (right now) sadder than anything. She shook a little under his fingers.
"I love you," he whispered, then kissed her.
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Yorkeses
Prompt: Anger
Notes: For the Lover100 challenge.
Disclaimer: This is me owning nothing.
Summary: Stacey has quite a temper.
037: Anger
His Stacey had quite a temper. She could yell and throw things and rage with the best.
The second was why he was hiding in the garage.
He really wished she wouldn’t throw their front around. The lamp that had shattered on the door was from 1927 and very valuable. It wouldn’t do to lose their livelihood and their cover over a few stupid artifacts.
Then again, he also wished she hadn’t flown off the handle.
It wasn’t as though she had a short fuse. It was just that, lately, he’d been setting it off more and more. He knew she hated it here, but he couldn’t do anything about it, and every time he tried to make things more comfortable for her, it seemed to blow up in his face.
He hid behind the car. She tapped on the door.
"Yes?" he called.
"Dale?"
"Over here, darling."
He stood up and tried to pretend he’d been looking for something. She didn’t buy it.
"Hiding from me, eh?" she asked miserably.
He hung his head and guiltily replied, "Yes."
She sighed. "Don’t blame you. I’d hide form me, too."
He made it to her in a few strides. Brushed her hair out of her face.
"I’m sorry," she mumbled.
"Don’t be. I’m sorry I provoked you," he replied.
"You didn’t. So I’m sorry."
Dale tilted her face up and lost himself in her eyes. Pools of green and deeper and (right now) sadder than anything. She shook a little under his fingers.
"I love you," he whispered, then kissed her.