fic: you can't see in the dark
Title: You Can't See in the Dark
Author: Ellyrianna
Fandom: Skins
Pairing(s): Effy/Tony
Summary: This is how Effy loves: for all the wrong reasons. This is who Effy loves: the only one who won't have her. For the Doomed Ship Ficathon. Prompt was Tony/Effy, don't let me be your eyes.
Effy doesn't know why he's the only one she's ever loved. Part of it, she's aware, is that he's always been her model of what a man should be: strong, harsh, sarcastic, supreme in every way, shape, and form. Maybe if she had never based her expectations around an anomaly like Tony, she never would have done half the things she had, like having sex for the first time when she was fourteen or popping tabs at fifteen and wandering drunk down the streets of Bristol at four in the morning like she'd been born to do it.
She wishes she hadn't based her worldview around Tony, that she hadn't tried to see everything from the way Tony would, or have tried to one-up him in every category. She wanted to be bolder than him, brasher than him, to show him that she was in every way just as good -- and better -- than him. She wanted him to notice her. She wanted him to love her with the fervor, with the intensity, with which she loved him.
He came to see her in hospital. He didn't tell anyone he was coming, made sure to do it when no one else was around. Freddie'd run off when she'd told him to, her mother was sitting on a bench somewhere staring into the dregs of a cup of cafeteria coffee, and she was alone with her taped-up wrists and the restraints binding her to the bed. Alone, of course, until Tony appeared in the door, almost a mirage, looking smartly and strangely buttoned-up, straightened out, for what had to be one in the morning.
"What's all this, then?" he asked her, glancing around at the tubes, the beeping machines, the cords crossing over her chest and arms.
"Something stupid," she said. She had to be mysterious. She had to hold his interest. He smirked, and her heart jumped. He unlocked the restraints as deftly as if it were his job. It had always been his job to take care of her.
Effy sat up halfway and grabbed his wrist, holding it tight, squeezing. Tony tugged slightly, just a hint of discomfort flickering across his face. She pulled at him, pulled him toward her, until her fingers were desperately around his neck and her lips were pressing against his, her whole body thrilling, her mind singing --
Tony pushed her off of him, took a step back, his brow knitted and his eyes filled with fear, with disgust. Effy felt her whole self quail at that look. She wanted to tell him not to be afraid, that it was just life, that nothing mattered, she would only ever love him, had only ever wanted him. She'd destroyed the nice boy, she'd come to hate the chav one -- she could only ever love someone like Tony, the perfect mix, the perfect man.
"They got you on some funny drugs?" he asked her carefully. His tone of voice told her exactly what he wanted to hear.
She nodded her head. "Suppose," she said.
Her hands itched to reach for him again, but that look in his eyes stopped her. She couldn't drive him off. She needed him, always; she couldn't afford to drive him off entirely. She would live for those eyes, even if they were afraid of her.
Author: Ellyrianna
Fandom: Skins
Pairing(s): Effy/Tony
Summary: This is how Effy loves: for all the wrong reasons. This is who Effy loves: the only one who won't have her. For the Doomed Ship Ficathon. Prompt was Tony/Effy, don't let me be your eyes.
Effy doesn't know why he's the only one she's ever loved. Part of it, she's aware, is that he's always been her model of what a man should be: strong, harsh, sarcastic, supreme in every way, shape, and form. Maybe if she had never based her expectations around an anomaly like Tony, she never would have done half the things she had, like having sex for the first time when she was fourteen or popping tabs at fifteen and wandering drunk down the streets of Bristol at four in the morning like she'd been born to do it.
She wishes she hadn't based her worldview around Tony, that she hadn't tried to see everything from the way Tony would, or have tried to one-up him in every category. She wanted to be bolder than him, brasher than him, to show him that she was in every way just as good -- and better -- than him. She wanted him to notice her. She wanted him to love her with the fervor, with the intensity, with which she loved him.
He came to see her in hospital. He didn't tell anyone he was coming, made sure to do it when no one else was around. Freddie'd run off when she'd told him to, her mother was sitting on a bench somewhere staring into the dregs of a cup of cafeteria coffee, and she was alone with her taped-up wrists and the restraints binding her to the bed. Alone, of course, until Tony appeared in the door, almost a mirage, looking smartly and strangely buttoned-up, straightened out, for what had to be one in the morning.
"What's all this, then?" he asked her, glancing around at the tubes, the beeping machines, the cords crossing over her chest and arms.
"Something stupid," she said. She had to be mysterious. She had to hold his interest. He smirked, and her heart jumped. He unlocked the restraints as deftly as if it were his job. It had always been his job to take care of her.
Effy sat up halfway and grabbed his wrist, holding it tight, squeezing. Tony tugged slightly, just a hint of discomfort flickering across his face. She pulled at him, pulled him toward her, until her fingers were desperately around his neck and her lips were pressing against his, her whole body thrilling, her mind singing --
Tony pushed her off of him, took a step back, his brow knitted and his eyes filled with fear, with disgust. Effy felt her whole self quail at that look. She wanted to tell him not to be afraid, that it was just life, that nothing mattered, she would only ever love him, had only ever wanted him. She'd destroyed the nice boy, she'd come to hate the chav one -- she could only ever love someone like Tony, the perfect mix, the perfect man.
"They got you on some funny drugs?" he asked her carefully. His tone of voice told her exactly what he wanted to hear.
She nodded her head. "Suppose," she said.
Her hands itched to reach for him again, but that look in his eyes stopped her. She couldn't drive him off. She needed him, always; she couldn't afford to drive him off entirely. She would live for those eyes, even if they were afraid of her.