just to stay like this in the dim half-light dawn {derek/meredith}
Title: Just To Stay Like This In The Dim Half-Light Dawn
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Derek/Meredith
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 612
Prompt: Written for _takemeaway_ for the Alphabet meme (b is for breakfast). I'm sorry this is so short, but I had an idea and I don't like writing words just for the sake of them.
Author's Note: This is a new trick for me: MerDer where people are actually happy. Miracles never cease. If there are any errors it's because I wrote this with a very needy dog in my lap.
Summary:Spoilers for Season 5. It's just another morning in a long series of them -- if you forget all about things like calendars and plans that they were never very good at sticking to.
It’s weird. And by that Meredith really means it’s weirdly normal, the way they go about things.
He isn’t in bed when she wakes up, instead she can hear the shower running down the hall, and from the giggling downstairs she knows the only possible person it can be is Derek.
She gets dressed without turning on the lights, relying on the blue-white light that seeps through the curtains drawn over the windows, having already taken her shower the night before, a routine broken by one long day and not enough time in the morning with five people in the house, more often four. She misses a button on her shirt, doesn’t notice until the last hole doesn’t match up with the amount of buttons, one side too long, and then she undoes and redoes them. By the time she’s tripped over a pair of shoes, haphazardly lined up by the door, the shower has been turned off and the giggling has stopped, replaced by silence and the mechanical hum of appliances that greets her when she walks down the stairs and into the kitchen.
With the radio on low, some news station, she makes herself breakfast, toast, pulling the box of Muesli down from its place in the cabinet and setting it on the counter to wait for him. The clock ticks and her toast almost burns because she isn’t watching closely enough and then she hears him on the stairs.
“Morning,” he says, sidling up behind her, kissing her on the cheek, something that speaks of habit and absentmindedness. There’s a briefly entertained delusion that this is the wrong day, and she’s simply got her days mixed up. It’s short lived and followed by another one, that maybe he forgot what today is. Unlikely, she decides, after a moment where she does nothing but watch him pour cereal into a bowl. Unlikely because he’s the one who’s wanted this enough to propose three different times, more or less.
So instead of the roughly six million questions floating around in her mind, she just nods at him and says, “Good morning to you too,” as she sits down at the table.
It can’t help but feel anti-climactic, after the pause she’d given between his greeting and her own. He doesn’t notice; there’s this smile playing at his lips and he’s humming something over the weather report, and she never liked people who hummed but it never bothers her with him. With him it breathes of familiarity.
There’s a long stretch after he joins her at the table, across from her, with his bowl and his spoon hung limply between his fingers, and he keeps looking at her, and it makes her smile at first, then laugh, and it’s like he’s doing it intentionally. Sitting there, giving her these looks, while they laugh at nothing over at breakfast.
It’s weird in all the ways that the morning of your wedding day shouldn’t be. In fact, if Izzie had her way, she wouldn’t be seeing Derek for those full twenty-four hours before the wedding, but they have to work, and she isn’t going to make him move back to his trailer for the night. Granted, those are just the excuses she gave to placate Izzie; in reality, she just didn’t care about tradition, no matter how hard she tried for Izzie’s sake, somewhat for his sake. She didn’t care about the wedding, or all the stuff that came before it, all the preparation and ritual. She cared about what came after all of that.
Like right now. Meredith wants nothing more than this moment right now, real and honest and comfortable and them.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Derek/Meredith
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 612
Prompt: Written for _takemeaway_ for the Alphabet meme (b is for breakfast). I'm sorry this is so short, but I had an idea and I don't like writing words just for the sake of them.
Author's Note: This is a new trick for me: MerDer where people are actually happy. Miracles never cease. If there are any errors it's because I wrote this with a very needy dog in my lap.
Summary:Spoilers for Season 5. It's just another morning in a long series of them -- if you forget all about things like calendars and plans that they were never very good at sticking to.
It’s weird. And by that Meredith really means it’s weirdly normal, the way they go about things.
He isn’t in bed when she wakes up, instead she can hear the shower running down the hall, and from the giggling downstairs she knows the only possible person it can be is Derek.
She gets dressed without turning on the lights, relying on the blue-white light that seeps through the curtains drawn over the windows, having already taken her shower the night before, a routine broken by one long day and not enough time in the morning with five people in the house, more often four. She misses a button on her shirt, doesn’t notice until the last hole doesn’t match up with the amount of buttons, one side too long, and then she undoes and redoes them. By the time she’s tripped over a pair of shoes, haphazardly lined up by the door, the shower has been turned off and the giggling has stopped, replaced by silence and the mechanical hum of appliances that greets her when she walks down the stairs and into the kitchen.
With the radio on low, some news station, she makes herself breakfast, toast, pulling the box of Muesli down from its place in the cabinet and setting it on the counter to wait for him. The clock ticks and her toast almost burns because she isn’t watching closely enough and then she hears him on the stairs.
“Morning,” he says, sidling up behind her, kissing her on the cheek, something that speaks of habit and absentmindedness. There’s a briefly entertained delusion that this is the wrong day, and she’s simply got her days mixed up. It’s short lived and followed by another one, that maybe he forgot what today is. Unlikely, she decides, after a moment where she does nothing but watch him pour cereal into a bowl. Unlikely because he’s the one who’s wanted this enough to propose three different times, more or less.
So instead of the roughly six million questions floating around in her mind, she just nods at him and says, “Good morning to you too,” as she sits down at the table.
It can’t help but feel anti-climactic, after the pause she’d given between his greeting and her own. He doesn’t notice; there’s this smile playing at his lips and he’s humming something over the weather report, and she never liked people who hummed but it never bothers her with him. With him it breathes of familiarity.
There’s a long stretch after he joins her at the table, across from her, with his bowl and his spoon hung limply between his fingers, and he keeps looking at her, and it makes her smile at first, then laugh, and it’s like he’s doing it intentionally. Sitting there, giving her these looks, while they laugh at nothing over at breakfast.
It’s weird in all the ways that the morning of your wedding day shouldn’t be. In fact, if Izzie had her way, she wouldn’t be seeing Derek for those full twenty-four hours before the wedding, but they have to work, and she isn’t going to make him move back to his trailer for the night. Granted, those are just the excuses she gave to placate Izzie; in reality, she just didn’t care about tradition, no matter how hard she tried for Izzie’s sake, somewhat for his sake. She didn’t care about the wedding, or all the stuff that came before it, all the preparation and ritual. She cared about what came after all of that.
Like right now. Meredith wants nothing more than this moment right now, real and honest and comfortable and them.