Fun Fic Friday!
~Fun Fic Friday~
TGIF! It's the day before the weekend, and what better way to close out a long week than with a fun dose of ficlets and drabbles of Luke, Reid, or Luke & Reid? Or how about some amazing icons or graphics of the guys? (Don't be fooled by the name - Fun (Graph)Fic Friday just didn't have the same ring to it.) Here's your chance to ( Read more... )
"11 years, 5 months and 22 days and 9 hours..."
I add and can't believe, you've counted them, too. The smile you bless me with in return - almost knocks me down.
No snarky remark, no attempt to downplay the hidden meaning. You have also counted the years, months, days that we were apart.
Nobody does that except he misses, he still yearns, he is still attached somehow. Somehow.
"How's life treated you, Luke?" 11 years ago you'd never have used that kind of words.
"Honestly I have bad days and then there are worse days...and you?"
"Well, I have crazy days, insane days and ...and then there are pretty lonely days." This, this is almost too much. YOU admitting loneliness. I can do this. I can hold back the damn tears
already threatening my carefully trained composure.
"Yeah, me too." I manage to get out.
"Ahh - lonely ...YOU!?...What about Noah?"
I see, even after all these years his name still tastes bitter on your tongue.
"He's long gone. ... What about Justin?" - Why pretend that I wouldn't know any attainable detail about you? 4189 days relativize any pretention.
"I didn't invite him to stay long enough to leave his marks..."
"Oh, I am sorry...!"
"No, you're not!"
Thank God you haven't lost your unmistakable smirk. I love it as much as I love the soft-insecure-of-itself kind of smile.
"Right, I am not." I smile, too. And now you bend your head, shove your hands into your pockets and draw circles on the ground - with your right shoe. What's going on in your complicated
mind right now? You're so close. If I'd reach out my hand - that's also safely hidden in my pocket - I could touch your thick, soft locks. I've never got why people call them "gray". They aren't
gray - they are white and the way they sprinkle your still thick and gorgeous auburn curls - well, that's nice. It doesn't mar your beauty. Well, there is a beauty that strikes everyone but often
fades with aging. You're gorgeousness seems to grow, to deepen, as if an artist wouldn't be able to leave his "work" so he always comes back to perfect it - that's just the way you are
"beautying".
The deepened lines joining your nasal wings with the corner of your - still incredibly attracting - mouth (I've tasted far too rarely), they are new. So life has even sharpened your
lines - yet softened on the other hand. There is a tiny soft spot under your chin, the hint of skin that refuses to stay tightened. Adorable. My fingertips crave to touch it.
"How about I'll buy you a club soda. Or is it too early the day?" Can't believe you remember this, what makes my heartbeat increase to an unhealthy level.
GOD! No, please! No! Bob, please don't interrupt! I know it's your day of honor, but please let me have this moment with him.
Can't we be done with you or somebody else interfering, interrupting, throwing rattles, gawking through windows - at least after eleven years?
I can't suppress an unambiguous frustrated noise, huff, sigh, that makes you lift your head and -
yes, it makes you throw a beaming kind of smile right into my face.
You understand. You know.
"To be continued?" I ask.
"To be continued!", you answer, "to be continued, definitely!"
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"beautying".
<3
[...] and 9 hours..."
For me, it always felt bittersweet reading or hearing the words "to be continued..." but now I can believe them.
Beautiful. Beautiful.
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