Nerves [Friday Night Lights]
Title: Nerves
Characters/Pairings: Tim/Lyla
Rating: G
Warning: None
Prompt: gotta go see about a girl for the 4th of july meme
A/N: It's been a really long time since I saw S5 of FNL so forgive me if this makes no sense.
Nerves
The last time his hands were sweatin’ this much, he was about to win state. Next time was when they was about to lose it.
“What can I do for you today, Tim?”
Buddy Garrity, on the other hand, has this look on his face like he’s never sweat a day in his life. In, you know, the symbolic sense. ‘Cause Tim’s been around him on those hundred degree days here in the summer and can tell you one thing: Buddy Garrity sure as hell does sweat.
Tim hopes he can be like Buddy one day, talkin’ down bulls ready to charge and all that. Not so much in any other way, really.
“Well, I,” Tim starts, fumbling around words. “Have I told you how much I appreciate this job, sir?”
“A couple of times,” Buddy laughs, and it is funny, ‘cause Tim’s probably told him a hundred times. Right before he needs to ask him something or admit to doing something dumb, usually. Buddy’s not dumb, though. “Is there something you need?”
Tim shakes his head. “No, it’s not, I don’t need it or anything, it’s just-“
“Spit it out, son.”
Tim takes a breath, looks down at his hands. “I guess, I just wanted to know, well,” he swallows hard, and then looks Buddy in the eye for the first time today. “I just wanted to know how s- how she was doin’, is all.”
Buddy’s smile falters, just a little. Tim’s not sure whether it’s out of annoyance or pity. Might be a little bit of both. “Tim, you know she’s-“
“I know.” And he does know. He’s not hoping to get back together with her or anything, just, “I was just wondering, is all.”
It’s definitely pity, he can tell now. “She’s doing great, I just spoke with her yesterday. She’s really liking her classes and’s makin’ all kinds of friends.”
Tim nods, looks off to the side. “So she’s, happy then?”
Buddy nods slowly. “Yeah.”
Tim had figured the weight on his chest would be a little lighter, but it doesn’t seem to have worked. Funny thing, that. But nonetheless, he’s grateful. “Thank you sir, I appreciate it.”
The two of them sit quietly for a moment, and then Buddy sighs like he’s been defeated. Reaches over to grab a pen and scribbles something on a piece of paper, then slides the paper across the table. It’s a phone number with the word “Lyla” scrawled above it. “Don’t get any ideas or anything. She’s got herself a whole new life there. But I think she’d… like to hear from you.”
“I won’t, sir. Thank you, sir.”
And that’s that.
Tim spends a week of nights staring at the number in one hand and a phone in the other before he finally calls her. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting really. After all the shit he’s done, he figures he’s lucky if she even picks up.
But she does, in the end. Her voice sounds sleepy, like he woke her up or something. “Hello?”
Stupid time for his tongue to stop workin’ right. All he manages to get out is: “Hi Lyla.”
There’s a pause, not too long really, but long enough for him to wonder whether she’d hung up on him.
But she hasn’t, and says hi right back like nothing’s changed. After some pleasantries he asks her about her classes, not ‘cause he’s all that interested in the details, but because, honestly? He just wants to hear her talk. Wants to close his eyes and listen, get dangerous thoughts in his head like she’s right beside him, curled under his arm, telling him about her day.
Characters/Pairings: Tim/Lyla
Rating: G
Warning: None
Prompt: gotta go see about a girl for the 4th of july meme
A/N: It's been a really long time since I saw S5 of FNL so forgive me if this makes no sense.
Nerves
The last time his hands were sweatin’ this much, he was about to win state. Next time was when they was about to lose it.
“What can I do for you today, Tim?”
Buddy Garrity, on the other hand, has this look on his face like he’s never sweat a day in his life. In, you know, the symbolic sense. ‘Cause Tim’s been around him on those hundred degree days here in the summer and can tell you one thing: Buddy Garrity sure as hell does sweat.
Tim hopes he can be like Buddy one day, talkin’ down bulls ready to charge and all that. Not so much in any other way, really.
“Well, I,” Tim starts, fumbling around words. “Have I told you how much I appreciate this job, sir?”
“A couple of times,” Buddy laughs, and it is funny, ‘cause Tim’s probably told him a hundred times. Right before he needs to ask him something or admit to doing something dumb, usually. Buddy’s not dumb, though. “Is there something you need?”
Tim shakes his head. “No, it’s not, I don’t need it or anything, it’s just-“
“Spit it out, son.”
Tim takes a breath, looks down at his hands. “I guess, I just wanted to know, well,” he swallows hard, and then looks Buddy in the eye for the first time today. “I just wanted to know how s- how she was doin’, is all.”
Buddy’s smile falters, just a little. Tim’s not sure whether it’s out of annoyance or pity. Might be a little bit of both. “Tim, you know she’s-“
“I know.” And he does know. He’s not hoping to get back together with her or anything, just, “I was just wondering, is all.”
It’s definitely pity, he can tell now. “She’s doing great, I just spoke with her yesterday. She’s really liking her classes and’s makin’ all kinds of friends.”
Tim nods, looks off to the side. “So she’s, happy then?”
Buddy nods slowly. “Yeah.”
Tim had figured the weight on his chest would be a little lighter, but it doesn’t seem to have worked. Funny thing, that. But nonetheless, he’s grateful. “Thank you sir, I appreciate it.”
The two of them sit quietly for a moment, and then Buddy sighs like he’s been defeated. Reaches over to grab a pen and scribbles something on a piece of paper, then slides the paper across the table. It’s a phone number with the word “Lyla” scrawled above it. “Don’t get any ideas or anything. She’s got herself a whole new life there. But I think she’d… like to hear from you.”
“I won’t, sir. Thank you, sir.”
And that’s that.
Tim spends a week of nights staring at the number in one hand and a phone in the other before he finally calls her. He’s not really sure what he’s expecting really. After all the shit he’s done, he figures he’s lucky if she even picks up.
But she does, in the end. Her voice sounds sleepy, like he woke her up or something. “Hello?”
Stupid time for his tongue to stop workin’ right. All he manages to get out is: “Hi Lyla.”
There’s a pause, not too long really, but long enough for him to wonder whether she’d hung up on him.
But she hasn’t, and says hi right back like nothing’s changed. After some pleasantries he asks her about her classes, not ‘cause he’s all that interested in the details, but because, honestly? He just wants to hear her talk. Wants to close his eyes and listen, get dangerous thoughts in his head like she’s right beside him, curled under his arm, telling him about her day.