fic: little hearts
Title: Little Hearts
Fandom: Original
Characers/Pairing: Penelope Harper, Rupert Ash, Aurelie Durand, Rupert/Penelope
Summary: She steals one of his cardigans. Black & grey stripes.
Rating: PG ish. I don't know how to rate things.
Notes: So, um, I haven't posted Rupert/Penelope fic since AUGUST? How did that happen?
VERY LATE birthday present for anti_social_ite. ♥
Photo source.
♠
She steals one of his cardigans. Black & grey stripes.
Well, not exactly steals. He left it at her house one day, and she just never gave it back. She stuffs it in her wardrobe, and forgets about it.
The day she gets her tattoo, her heating isn't working, and she finds it while looking for something warm to put on. She slides it on over an old cotton t-shirt and is struck by the fact that it still smells of him.
♥
On one of their many non-dates, she orders bread and butter pudding and picks out the sultanas.
The next week, she goes with Aurelie to the same cafe and the waiter approaches the table.
"Do you have bread and butter pudding today?" she asks.
"Raisin girl."
She raises her eyebrows, "Pardon?"
"You're the girl who doesn't like raisins."
"Yes," slowly.
"Bread and butter pudding it is." The waiter says with a smirk.
"Same for me, please." Aurelie tries not to giggle.
Penny picks out the sultanas again, and makes a happy face on her plate.
♣
"You just need a hint of boob, and there-" she steps back, "-voila. Perfect."
The look on Penny's face makes Aurelie stop.
"What?"
"A hint of boob?"
"Oui."
They dissolve in giggles.
♦
She's not even sure this is what she wanted.
♠
She draws little hearts in her notebook at work, and even Penny Ash a few times. He makes her feel like she's fifteen. She's not entirely sure whether that's a good or bad thing.
She glances up when she hears someone approach the counter. She gasps audibly when she sees that it's Rupert, and quickly covers it up with her hand and smiles as casually as she can manage.
"Hi."
"Hey," and she can't help but blush.
♥
Turns out, she can forget about him.
One day, while running errands, she passes a boy trying to donate money for blind people.
"Hi," he smiles, and she can't help but notice his dimples. She looks up at him, she can't not, he's easily a whole head taller than her.
"Hello," she smiles wearily.
"I'm Will, and you are?" He extends his hand.
He's exceptionally cheery for someone trying to get her money, she thinks. Also, she thinks of just walking off. She doesn't.
"Penelope."
"You look nice." His smile gets brighter and those dimples deeper.
She's a little taken aback. She looks down, almost inspecting herself. "Thank you." (And it almost sounds like a question.)
"So, how old are you, Penelope?"
"Twenty-one."
"Really? You look younger."
"Yeah, I know. I look twelve, it's great." She says in the self-deprecating way he hates.
"No, you look about eighteen-nineteen. Not too bad."
"Oh, yeah. That's not so bad."
She almost gives him money, if not for the fact that she has none. She blushes her apologies and wanders off to finish her errands. His fingers brush her arm as she passes him.
When she's sure he's not looking (why would he be?), she looks back at him. She keeps walking and smiles.
♣
A year to the day, she sees him walk past the shop window. She'd seen this happen countless times, but not for months. It's like the world was trying to teach her some cosmic lesson.
He's wearing a tie, a suit that matched, and his hair is combed back. If she was imagining this, her mind was mixing him up with some sort of politician. This was not her Rupert.
The shop is practically empty, save for one little old man browsing Faulkner and almost falling asleep, so she steps away from the counter then, and to the door.
And just when she's about to walk out the door to double check, he steps around the corner and almost into her.
She stops.
She can't move.
He doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. She has so many half-formed sentences running around in her mind, a whole football team's worth, but there must be some sort of loose connection between her brain and her mouth, because she can't speak.
"Hi," he says finally.
And without making the conscious decision to do so, her body is moving. She turns around and makes her way back to the counter. Leaving him just standing in the doorway, she starts making herself a cup of tea, like that would somehow make this real for her. She burns her hand on the too hot kettle and gasps.
He's beside her all of a sudden, trying to assess the damage.
She pulls away for the first time.
"Don't."
And his face drops. "Sorry."
"A little too late for that, don't you think?" She hadn't realised she was angry until the words came out of her mouth. She shakes her head and covers her face with her hands.
"Sorry-" he exhales and she can feel him reaching out for her, or maybe she's just hoping that he is.
"Please don't apologise."
And suddenly, she's crying and she's wrapped up in his arms and it's just like nothing happened (he never left, she never turned up on his doorstep at three in the morning, he never disappeared, he never broke her heart without ever really having it in the first place, she never gave up, she never moved on, she never smiled like that at somebody else-) and she thinks this is all just impossible. But she can feel his fingers in her hair and she can smell him and it's real.
♦
She doesn't know how this will end.
Fandom: Original
Characers/Pairing: Penelope Harper, Rupert Ash, Aurelie Durand, Rupert/Penelope
Summary: She steals one of his cardigans. Black & grey stripes.
Rating: PG ish. I don't know how to rate things.
Notes: So, um, I haven't posted Rupert/Penelope fic since AUGUST? How did that happen?
VERY LATE birthday present for anti_social_ite. ♥
Photo source.
♠
She steals one of his cardigans. Black & grey stripes.
Well, not exactly steals. He left it at her house one day, and she just never gave it back. She stuffs it in her wardrobe, and forgets about it.
The day she gets her tattoo, her heating isn't working, and she finds it while looking for something warm to put on. She slides it on over an old cotton t-shirt and is struck by the fact that it still smells of him.
♥
On one of their many non-dates, she orders bread and butter pudding and picks out the sultanas.
The next week, she goes with Aurelie to the same cafe and the waiter approaches the table.
"Do you have bread and butter pudding today?" she asks.
"Raisin girl."
She raises her eyebrows, "Pardon?"
"You're the girl who doesn't like raisins."
"Yes," slowly.
"Bread and butter pudding it is." The waiter says with a smirk.
"Same for me, please." Aurelie tries not to giggle.
Penny picks out the sultanas again, and makes a happy face on her plate.
♣
"You just need a hint of boob, and there-" she steps back, "-voila. Perfect."
The look on Penny's face makes Aurelie stop.
"What?"
"A hint of boob?"
"Oui."
They dissolve in giggles.
♦
She's not even sure this is what she wanted.
♠
She draws little hearts in her notebook at work, and even Penny Ash a few times. He makes her feel like she's fifteen. She's not entirely sure whether that's a good or bad thing.
She glances up when she hears someone approach the counter. She gasps audibly when she sees that it's Rupert, and quickly covers it up with her hand and smiles as casually as she can manage.
"Hi."
"Hey," and she can't help but blush.
♥
Turns out, she can forget about him.
One day, while running errands, she passes a boy trying to donate money for blind people.
"Hi," he smiles, and she can't help but notice his dimples. She looks up at him, she can't not, he's easily a whole head taller than her.
"Hello," she smiles wearily.
"I'm Will, and you are?" He extends his hand.
He's exceptionally cheery for someone trying to get her money, she thinks. Also, she thinks of just walking off. She doesn't.
"Penelope."
"You look nice." His smile gets brighter and those dimples deeper.
She's a little taken aback. She looks down, almost inspecting herself. "Thank you." (And it almost sounds like a question.)
"So, how old are you, Penelope?"
"Twenty-one."
"Really? You look younger."
"Yeah, I know. I look twelve, it's great." She says in the self-deprecating way he hates.
"No, you look about eighteen-nineteen. Not too bad."
"Oh, yeah. That's not so bad."
She almost gives him money, if not for the fact that she has none. She blushes her apologies and wanders off to finish her errands. His fingers brush her arm as she passes him.
When she's sure he's not looking (why would he be?), she looks back at him. She keeps walking and smiles.
♣
A year to the day, she sees him walk past the shop window. She'd seen this happen countless times, but not for months. It's like the world was trying to teach her some cosmic lesson.
He's wearing a tie, a suit that matched, and his hair is combed back. If she was imagining this, her mind was mixing him up with some sort of politician. This was not her Rupert.
The shop is practically empty, save for one little old man browsing Faulkner and almost falling asleep, so she steps away from the counter then, and to the door.
And just when she's about to walk out the door to double check, he steps around the corner and almost into her.
She stops.
She can't move.
He doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. She has so many half-formed sentences running around in her mind, a whole football team's worth, but there must be some sort of loose connection between her brain and her mouth, because she can't speak.
"Hi," he says finally.
And without making the conscious decision to do so, her body is moving. She turns around and makes her way back to the counter. Leaving him just standing in the doorway, she starts making herself a cup of tea, like that would somehow make this real for her. She burns her hand on the too hot kettle and gasps.
He's beside her all of a sudden, trying to assess the damage.
She pulls away for the first time.
"Don't."
And his face drops. "Sorry."
"A little too late for that, don't you think?" She hadn't realised she was angry until the words came out of her mouth. She shakes her head and covers her face with her hands.
"Sorry-" he exhales and she can feel him reaching out for her, or maybe she's just hoping that he is.
"Please don't apologise."
And suddenly, she's crying and she's wrapped up in his arms and it's just like nothing happened (he never left, she never turned up on his doorstep at three in the morning, he never disappeared, he never broke her heart without ever really having it in the first place, she never gave up, she never moved on, she never smiled like that at somebody else-) and she thinks this is all just impossible. But she can feel his fingers in her hair and she can smell him and it's real.
♦
She doesn't know how this will end.