my head is saying no, but my heart keeps giving in
Title: The waiting was always the worst part.
Pairings: Lennon&Cindy
Word Count: 619
Summary: The sex always began and ended the same. It was a fumbling of hands, a few rasping breaths, a crash of bodies.
Rating: R
Notes: I believe in this pair. If it ain't canon soon I'm going to smack a bitch. Yes Darlton, I'm looking at you.
The sex always began and ended the same. It was a fumbling of hands, a few rasping breaths, a crash of bodies. Something so personal became impersonal, like the exchange of currency for goods, or the way a middle-class business man ignores a tramp begging for money. It became routine, and the secrecy was driving her insane.
She’d wait for him, every time, to come into the room, to push her against the wall without a greeting. For him to ignore her as if she weren’t a person - just a body for him to fuck. She could usually gauge his mood by the speed and the strength of his thrusts. Lately his moods had been nothing but bad.
Tonight, she stood in the middle of his room, as she did most nights, waiting for him. She hadn’t yet bothered to remove her clothes - it just didn’t seem to matter tonight. She settled with wringing her hands. The waiting was always the worst part. It was like she was waiting for the world to end. She knew it was going to happen, but she didn’t know when or how.
And suddenly, she was torn from her thoughts as the door opened. He walked in, and sat down on the bed. Time stopped. She wondered what the problem was. Maybe it was because she was still wearing clothes. She made to unbutton her shirt.
“Don’t bother,” he said, staring determinedly at the floor. She stopped, letting her hands fall to her sides. They remained in silence for a painfully long time. She would open her mouth to speak, to ask him why, but every time the words left her at the last moment, and she was left with no breath. So, she just stood. She stood, and she continued to wait. She waited until the wait became unbearable, and she had to speak.
“What’s wrong, Lennon?” She asked. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it was loud enough. He looked up at her, his sharp blue eyes staring over the top of his glasses. For a moment, she expected him to stand up. For a moment, she regretted the decision to speak. However, contrary to every thought she was having, he shrugged.
“You have bad days, right?” He said, and she raised her eyebrows.
“Everybody does,” she replied, and she mirrored the shrug.
“Of course.” The silence resumed. He continued to look at her, and she found it hard to maintain his gaze. Everything was in those eyes. Every word left unspoken. Every moment they’ve ever spent together. It was plain to see that those moments had become something more. They had, she supposed. She’d ignored it thus far, those feelings, but the fact of the matter was that they were there.
Abandoning her greater instincts, she carefully made her way over to him, feeling the cold stone floor beneath her feet. She knelt in front of him, ignoring those subservient connotations, and moved forward until his knees pressed into her hips. She placed her hands on either side of his face. Kissed him slowly. Gently. It took him a moment, but eventually he kissed her back. Eventually, he picked her up, took her in his arms and lay her down on the bed. For the first time, he was gentle. For the first time, they came together.
Hours later, she watched him sleep. They’d talked. Just for a while. Just talked. About each other. They’d avoided the elephant in the room, but what did that matter when she finally had what she’d never realised she wanted. She turned on her side, and brushed the hair from his face. Traced his jaw lightly with her fingers. Sighed.
Pairings: Lennon&Cindy
Word Count: 619
Summary: The sex always began and ended the same. It was a fumbling of hands, a few rasping breaths, a crash of bodies.
Rating: R
Notes: I believe in this pair. If it ain't canon soon I'm going to smack a bitch. Yes Darlton, I'm looking at you.
The sex always began and ended the same. It was a fumbling of hands, a few rasping breaths, a crash of bodies. Something so personal became impersonal, like the exchange of currency for goods, or the way a middle-class business man ignores a tramp begging for money. It became routine, and the secrecy was driving her insane.
She’d wait for him, every time, to come into the room, to push her against the wall without a greeting. For him to ignore her as if she weren’t a person - just a body for him to fuck. She could usually gauge his mood by the speed and the strength of his thrusts. Lately his moods had been nothing but bad.
Tonight, she stood in the middle of his room, as she did most nights, waiting for him. She hadn’t yet bothered to remove her clothes - it just didn’t seem to matter tonight. She settled with wringing her hands. The waiting was always the worst part. It was like she was waiting for the world to end. She knew it was going to happen, but she didn’t know when or how.
And suddenly, she was torn from her thoughts as the door opened. He walked in, and sat down on the bed. Time stopped. She wondered what the problem was. Maybe it was because she was still wearing clothes. She made to unbutton her shirt.
“Don’t bother,” he said, staring determinedly at the floor. She stopped, letting her hands fall to her sides. They remained in silence for a painfully long time. She would open her mouth to speak, to ask him why, but every time the words left her at the last moment, and she was left with no breath. So, she just stood. She stood, and she continued to wait. She waited until the wait became unbearable, and she had to speak.
“What’s wrong, Lennon?” She asked. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it was loud enough. He looked up at her, his sharp blue eyes staring over the top of his glasses. For a moment, she expected him to stand up. For a moment, she regretted the decision to speak. However, contrary to every thought she was having, he shrugged.
“You have bad days, right?” He said, and she raised her eyebrows.
“Everybody does,” she replied, and she mirrored the shrug.
“Of course.” The silence resumed. He continued to look at her, and she found it hard to maintain his gaze. Everything was in those eyes. Every word left unspoken. Every moment they’ve ever spent together. It was plain to see that those moments had become something more. They had, she supposed. She’d ignored it thus far, those feelings, but the fact of the matter was that they were there.
Abandoning her greater instincts, she carefully made her way over to him, feeling the cold stone floor beneath her feet. She knelt in front of him, ignoring those subservient connotations, and moved forward until his knees pressed into her hips. She placed her hands on either side of his face. Kissed him slowly. Gently. It took him a moment, but eventually he kissed her back. Eventually, he picked her up, took her in his arms and lay her down on the bed. For the first time, he was gentle. For the first time, they came together.
Hours later, she watched him sleep. They’d talked. Just for a while. Just talked. About each other. They’d avoided the elephant in the room, but what did that matter when she finally had what she’d never realised she wanted. She turned on her side, and brushed the hair from his face. Traced his jaw lightly with her fingers. Sighed.