Glow
Title: Glow
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
Summary: Someone's watching.
Feedback: Is appreciated if you're so inclined.
Archive: Links Only
Disclaimer: I don't own Matt or Dom, no profit is being made & this is fiction.
Author's Note: This one's short-ish, more like a ficlet I suppose. Thank yous & hugs to dolce_piccante, myz_bee & frolicandfall for feedback, support and putting up with me in general. <33
Just when I'd given up hope of seeing it tonight it manifests before my eyes.
Flickering, soft, candlelight.
They're incredibly predictable, these two, and I'm thankful for that. I know what's coming next.
From my vantage point across the courtyard, I can see the two of them clearly in their flat as the blond hovers over the collection of candles in the windowsill, the brunet enveloping him from behind. The blond giggles, shooing the other man's hands away so he can finish lighting them all. Once they're lit they cast a gorgeous glow, and when the couple find themselves in each others arms I can see them quite clearly.
My chair, at my own window, remains hidden in the shadows safely. The brunet holds his hand out to the blond and it's no time at all until they're in each other's arms. They never vary in their routine, and true to form, their arms wrap around each other, the two of them sharing a kiss or seven. It takes my breath away to watch them, they're so incredibly tender with each other.
Am I merely a perverted voyeur? That's a fair question. What can I say? I want what they have, for it seems to be an all-emcompassing love, or at least it does from a distance. Watching
(spying on?)
them this way is all that I have; living vicariously through the bond they seemed to have forged in such a short time is enough to sustain me.
It is what it is; I didn't say it was healthy.
Obsession rarely is.
When I light my own lone candle, which is nearly melted down to nothing due to overuse, in response it doesn't take long for the blond to notice it. He stops, raising his head from the dark-haired man's shoulder. My heart begins to pound away in my chest because now it's clear: he knows, he knows I'm here, again. He turns them so that he can continue looking in my direction as they sway slowly.
The thought that his eyes are fixed in my general direction makes my heart sing, but just for a moment.
It's a benediction, and yet it's a punishment.
Now the pathetic tears are coming again. Shakily I extinguish my flame, desperate to fade back into the night, where I'm most comfortable, where I belong, but his gaze doesn't waver at all. No, he knows I'm here and the fact that he's still looking this way is no accident.
He's doing it on purpose. To remind me, you see.
Not that long ago, I used to be that brunet.
(You did this, Matt.)
Not anymore.
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
Summary: Someone's watching.
Feedback: Is appreciated if you're so inclined.
Archive: Links Only
Disclaimer: I don't own Matt or Dom, no profit is being made & this is fiction.
Author's Note: This one's short-ish, more like a ficlet I suppose. Thank yous & hugs to dolce_piccante, myz_bee & frolicandfall for feedback, support and putting up with me in general. <33
Just when I'd given up hope of seeing it tonight it manifests before my eyes.
Flickering, soft, candlelight.
They're incredibly predictable, these two, and I'm thankful for that. I know what's coming next.
From my vantage point across the courtyard, I can see the two of them clearly in their flat as the blond hovers over the collection of candles in the windowsill, the brunet enveloping him from behind. The blond giggles, shooing the other man's hands away so he can finish lighting them all. Once they're lit they cast a gorgeous glow, and when the couple find themselves in each others arms I can see them quite clearly.
My chair, at my own window, remains hidden in the shadows safely. The brunet holds his hand out to the blond and it's no time at all until they're in each other's arms. They never vary in their routine, and true to form, their arms wrap around each other, the two of them sharing a kiss or seven. It takes my breath away to watch them, they're so incredibly tender with each other.
Am I merely a perverted voyeur? That's a fair question. What can I say? I want what they have, for it seems to be an all-emcompassing love, or at least it does from a distance. Watching
(spying on?)
them this way is all that I have; living vicariously through the bond they seemed to have forged in such a short time is enough to sustain me.
It is what it is; I didn't say it was healthy.
Obsession rarely is.
When I light my own lone candle, which is nearly melted down to nothing due to overuse, in response it doesn't take long for the blond to notice it. He stops, raising his head from the dark-haired man's shoulder. My heart begins to pound away in my chest because now it's clear: he knows, he knows I'm here, again. He turns them so that he can continue looking in my direction as they sway slowly.
The thought that his eyes are fixed in my general direction makes my heart sing, but just for a moment.
It's a benediction, and yet it's a punishment.
Now the pathetic tears are coming again. Shakily I extinguish my flame, desperate to fade back into the night, where I'm most comfortable, where I belong, but his gaze doesn't waver at all. No, he knows I'm here and the fact that he's still looking this way is no accident.
He's doing it on purpose. To remind me, you see.
Not that long ago, I used to be that brunet.
(You did this, Matt.)
Not anymore.