Fic: Taking Care (original)
NOTE: Because I don't have time and because I'm out of the TV loop, I had to get this out of my head or it was going to kill me.
Also, I know not many people read original stuff so...taking a risk with this. Comments are appreciated :)
Title: Taking Care
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: original
Pairing: You and Her
Spoilers: none
Summary: Sometimes it's enough to just be there.
Disclaimer: Mine, all mine!
She’s on the bed and she’s reading; not so much reading as frantically underlining and covering the margins of the fat book in scribbles, until black has taken over the page completely. There are sticky notes peeking from every side; so garishly fluorescent that they mock her with all the information she has to soak in.
She’s frowning. You sigh.
You close the door behind you, unsurprised that she hasn’t noticed you come in. You watch as her eyes skim across the minute text- left, right, left, right- and then she bites down on her bottom lip. And you’re reminded of how cute she can be.
You think about saying ‘hey’. Instead, the space next to her looks too inviting to pass up so you walk over and crawl across the covers until you can peer at her over the top of the novel.
She blinks; blinks out of the messy trance she’s been in for the past couple of hours.
“Hi,” you say gently, relieved to see a smile form on her face.
“Hi,” she breathes out. She’s tired.
“How’s it going?”
She shrugs in defeat. She doesn’t need to say anything because you’ve been working just as hard; you can’t remember the last time you got some fresh air.
“Anything I can do?” you try.
“Have you read ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”
You shake your head apologetically, perfectly aware of where this is heading.
“Somehow I don’t think Biology comes into it,” she teases you and you see it as a sign that it’s okay to take the book from her. You fold the top corner and set it aside.
“Hey for all you know, Mr. Darcy could have been a diabetic, so technically, my knowledge of the insulin/glucagon mechanism could-”
She looks at you. It’s enough to make you shut up.
“You’re right…that was a dumb thing to say.”
You pout at her for being so serious and she can’t help dissolving into another smile. You lean in; brush your nose against her own. It’s not enough. So you lean in a little closer and tilt your head and when your lips meet, you let out a grateful sigh of relief.
You want to pull away but then she links arms around your neck and instantly, you melt into a puddle of infatuated goop.
“You can do it,” you whisper. Her blue eyes are hooded from exhaustion and you remember how much you've missed their sparkle. “You’ll get through this, you’ll ace the interview,” you promise her because you know that if she can’t, no one can. She thanks you by kissing you again in that sweet, light way only she knows how. “You should take a break.”
She grumbles. So you keep kissing her to make her listen to you. “You should take a break,” you whisper against her mouth, “otherwise nothing will go in,” you settle in her lap, “and you’ll just fall asleep,” you carefully move brown strands of hair from her face and smile at her innocently.
She smirks at you. “And by ‘break’ you mean…”
You pretend to be shocked. “No! I mean ‘break’, as in, ‘let me make you some hot chocolate and bring you a blanket’ break.”
She realises you’re being deadly serious and buries her head in the crook of your neck. “Ugh.”
“Come on,” you kiss the top of her head before manoeuvring her until you’re both lying down. You lie face to face, like you always do and she scoots closer, like she always does.
“Mmmh,” she huffs childishly- she’s never childish with you- and her hands settle underneath your chin where it’s warm and comforting.
“I’m going to take care of you.”
She nods; takes her thumb and slides it along your jaw like a weary traveller; then settles on your lip. You beam.
“I’m going to take care of you too,” she replaces the thumb with a kiss; it’s firm and sturdy and full of need and you automatically part your lips to let her do whatever she wants.
You hug her waist- fingers tangling in her soft hair- and know you'll never let each other get away.
Also, I know not many people read original stuff so...taking a risk with this. Comments are appreciated :)
Title: Taking Care
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: original
Pairing: You and Her
Spoilers: none
Summary: Sometimes it's enough to just be there.
Disclaimer: Mine, all mine!
She’s on the bed and she’s reading; not so much reading as frantically underlining and covering the margins of the fat book in scribbles, until black has taken over the page completely. There are sticky notes peeking from every side; so garishly fluorescent that they mock her with all the information she has to soak in.
She’s frowning. You sigh.
You close the door behind you, unsurprised that she hasn’t noticed you come in. You watch as her eyes skim across the minute text- left, right, left, right- and then she bites down on her bottom lip. And you’re reminded of how cute she can be.
You think about saying ‘hey’. Instead, the space next to her looks too inviting to pass up so you walk over and crawl across the covers until you can peer at her over the top of the novel.
She blinks; blinks out of the messy trance she’s been in for the past couple of hours.
“Hi,” you say gently, relieved to see a smile form on her face.
“Hi,” she breathes out. She’s tired.
“How’s it going?”
She shrugs in defeat. She doesn’t need to say anything because you’ve been working just as hard; you can’t remember the last time you got some fresh air.
“Anything I can do?” you try.
“Have you read ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”
You shake your head apologetically, perfectly aware of where this is heading.
“Somehow I don’t think Biology comes into it,” she teases you and you see it as a sign that it’s okay to take the book from her. You fold the top corner and set it aside.
“Hey for all you know, Mr. Darcy could have been a diabetic, so technically, my knowledge of the insulin/glucagon mechanism could-”
She looks at you. It’s enough to make you shut up.
“You’re right…that was a dumb thing to say.”
You pout at her for being so serious and she can’t help dissolving into another smile. You lean in; brush your nose against her own. It’s not enough. So you lean in a little closer and tilt your head and when your lips meet, you let out a grateful sigh of relief.
You want to pull away but then she links arms around your neck and instantly, you melt into a puddle of infatuated goop.
“You can do it,” you whisper. Her blue eyes are hooded from exhaustion and you remember how much you've missed their sparkle. “You’ll get through this, you’ll ace the interview,” you promise her because you know that if she can’t, no one can. She thanks you by kissing you again in that sweet, light way only she knows how. “You should take a break.”
She grumbles. So you keep kissing her to make her listen to you. “You should take a break,” you whisper against her mouth, “otherwise nothing will go in,” you settle in her lap, “and you’ll just fall asleep,” you carefully move brown strands of hair from her face and smile at her innocently.
She smirks at you. “And by ‘break’ you mean…”
You pretend to be shocked. “No! I mean ‘break’, as in, ‘let me make you some hot chocolate and bring you a blanket’ break.”
She realises you’re being deadly serious and buries her head in the crook of your neck. “Ugh.”
“Come on,” you kiss the top of her head before manoeuvring her until you’re both lying down. You lie face to face, like you always do and she scoots closer, like she always does.
“Mmmh,” she huffs childishly- she’s never childish with you- and her hands settle underneath your chin where it’s warm and comforting.
“I’m going to take care of you.”
She nods; takes her thumb and slides it along your jaw like a weary traveller; then settles on your lip. You beam.
“I’m going to take care of you too,” she replaces the thumb with a kiss; it’s firm and sturdy and full of need and you automatically part your lips to let her do whatever she wants.
You hug her waist- fingers tangling in her soft hair- and know you'll never let each other get away.