(no subject)
the world in her hands, Ten/Rose, G
The film is a scary one and Rose is embarrassed when she hides her face against John's arm. She feels him laugh and he leans over to her, whispering, "I'll protect you," and he's close enough that his lips brush her ear and she's grateful for the darkness of the theater so that he can't see her blush., 1,836
He's sitting at the counter when she walks out of the kitchen and she pauses a moment to look at him. He's a new face, a stranger in this little town, an anomaly.
She finds her feet again and hurries to drop off the order on her tray to the only customers in the diner, four factory workers on their lunch break who ignore her as she walks away.
She sets her tray down and approaches the man, who smiles at her as she walks up.
"What can I get you?" she asks, anxious for him to speak so she can tell where he's from. She's quite good with accents now, having worked as a waitress for most of her teenage life.
"Banana cream pie," he replies, his eyes hopeful. She's unable to pinpoint his accent and she frowns.
"I'm sorry, we haven't got any."
He looks crestfallen and she hates that she disappointed him.
"What sort have you got?"
"Apple, strawberry, and cherry," she replies.
He muses a moment and his eyes fall to her name tag.
"Rose," he murmurs and the tiniest of smiles graces his lips. "Did you bake any of the pies today, Rose?"
"The strawberry," she says, feeling bemused and a little charmed.
"Then I'll have a piece of that."
She gets it for him and walks back over to her table to refill their drinks, surreptitiously watching the man out of the corner of her eye.
His feet rest pigeon-toed in well-worn canvas shoes on the small ledge running along the underside of the counter and his clothes seem old but well taken care of. There's no bag that she can see and her curiosity is piqued as she heads back behind the counter.
"Where are you from?" she says and then catches herself, adding, "If you don't mind me asking."
He shakes his head, swallows a bite of pie. "All over. Bit of a traveler, me."
"A drifter?" Rose asks, her nose crinkling in distaste almost against her will. They've had their share of drifters here and it's never turned out well.
"Drifter? Oh, no, I don't like that word. I don't drift. I wander."
"So you're a wanderer." Rose nods, trying to hide a smirk. "Are you... wandering about for any particular reason?"
He shakes his head again. "Nope. Just wandering. I like to see where the road takes me."
"The road has brought you here, apparently. Have you got a name?"
"John Smith," he answers promptly, raising another forkful of pie to his mouth.
"An anonymous wanderer," Rose says, raising her eyebrows.
"No! No, no, no! John Smith, it's my true and honest name!" His hand automatically moves to the back pocket of his pants, in search of a wallet, before he seems to remember something. "Right, no wallet. But it stands all the same," he says, pointing a finger at her.
The factory workers are staring impatiently at her and she holds up her hand before hurrying over to them, taking their money and giving them change. They leave the restaurant, grumbling all the way, and when Rose turns around she discovers that her mystery man has vanished as well, leaving behind some money on the counter for his pie.
She thinks this is the last she'll see of John Smith but he's back the next day, once again inquiring after pie. She has to disappoint him again but tells him that she baked the cherry today and he accepts a slice of that.
He asks her where he can find work and she tells him that the farmers are always looking for some helpers.
He thanks her and stands to leave, pulling some money from his pocket.
"Will you be back tomorrow?" she asks.
"Only if you'll have banana cream pie," he says, grinning at her.
She smiles and watches him go.
When he returns the next day she does indeed have banana cream pie waiting for him and he beams, delighted as he goes after it with his fork.
"Any luck finding a job?" she asks.
He nods. "There's a farmer up the road, promised me room and board if I'd help him bale up hay."
"That's a lot of work," Rose says, casting an apprehensive look at his thin frame.
"I'm stronger than I look," he says with a wink and she grins.
A week after their first meeting he asks her to go with him to the movies. She doesn't even know what's playing but she readily agrees to go with him. He smiles widely, pleased, and tells her that he'll meet her at the theater.
She's doesn't know how to dress, unsure if he thinks of this as a date or not, so she picks a simple cotton dress, bright yellow with little eyelets at the top and bottom, topping it with a plain white sweater and white flats on her feet.
He grins when he sees her and declares her quite lovely as they approach the ticket booth. A look of horror passes over his face as he reaches into his pocket and she realizes he doesn't have any money.
She smiles warmly at him and pulls a few bills from her purse. "This one's on me. But next time you're paying."
He nods at her, looking solemn. "Fair enough."
She takes their tickets from the man behind the booth and hands John his, their fingers brushing together briefly.
The film is a scary one and Rose is embarrassed when she hides her face against John's arm. She feels him laugh and he leans over to her, whispering, "I'll protect you," and he's close enough that his lips brush her ear and she's grateful for the darkness of the theater so that he can't see her blush.
He walks her home after the movie. Their course is slow, neither of them in too big a hurry and she notices his eyes on the sky, staring at the stars.
"Where have you traveled to?" she asks, pulling his gaze down to her.
"I told you, all over. Started out in California and I've been slowly making my way east."
"Are you looking for something?"
He shrugs, turning his face back toward the sky. "If I am, I'll know it when I find it."
Rose keeps her eyes on his profile for a moment longer, noticing that he looks a bit melancholy now and wondering if she's upset him. His hand soon brushes against hers, though, curling around her palm, fingers sliding down to lock with hers and she smiles.
They reach her door and stand in the warm glow of the porch light. She smiles up at him, thanking him for the invite. He in turn thanks her for paying and promises that next time he'll have money.
Next time, Rose thinks, a thrill running through her.
He leans towards her and his lips are soft, the kiss chaste but sending shivers down Rose's spine all the same.
He smiles and wishes her a good night as he sees her into her house. She watches him walk back to the road, hands in his pockets and his eyes on the stars and smiles to herself, raising a hand to her lips.
It's been a month since he arrived and he's eating his usual piece of pie when he gives her a serious look.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, Rose," he says and she freezes in the middle of wiping off the counter.
"Leaving?"
"My work for the farmer is over with and I think it's time to move on."
She stares at him, cursing the tightness in her throat and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
He sees her stricken look and smiles.
"I want you to come with me."
She shakes her head. "I can't."
"Why not?" he asks, setting down his fork.
"I can't just... up and leave. I've got a life here, responsibilities."
"You're worth more than this little town, Rose. You deserve to see the world, to hold it in your hands and run with it."
She smiles wistfully. "You've got stars in your eyes, Mr. Smith." She shakes her head. "And banana cream pie on your lip."
He leans across the counter towards her, grinning playfully, and she laughs, bending to kiss him, tasting the pie on his lips.
When she begins to straighten up, he places a hand on her cheek, lightly stroking her skin with his thumb.
"I'm planning to be gone by 9:00 tomorrow morning. I'll be at the county line if you change your mind."
He gives her another kiss and it's longer this time, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling briefly in her hair. The kiss ends and he leans his forehead against hers for just a moment before turning and walking out of the diner.
Rose watches him go, tears in her eyes.
The sunlight wakes her up the next morning and she lies in bed a moment, staring up at her ceiling. When she thinks of John she imagines he's probably gone by now and the tightness is in her throat again.
She sighs and tosses the sheets aside, sitting on the edge of her bed and glancing at her clock. It's ten minutes to nine and her mind suddenly makes the decision for her, propelling her from the edge of her bed.
She dresses quickly, throwing some clothes haphazardly into a small knapsack, pulling a wad of bills from under her mattress and tossing it in on top of the clothes.
She wastes no time looking around her house, realizing she'll never miss it, and starts to run down the road, her shoes kicking up dust, her skirt fluttering around her knees, her hair a stream of gold behind her.
She reaches the county sign and stops, breathing hard and pressing her hand to her side. She scans the roadside, unable to spot him, and the disappointment begins to settle into her chest as she realizes that she's missed him.
She swallows hard against the lump in her throat and starts to turn back towards town when she sees him across the road, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against an old car, painted a vibrant shade of blue.
He smiles broadly at her and she grins, dashing across the road.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Five and a half hours," he replies, grinning.
"Liar."
"Five and a half hours," he says again, "true and honest."
"How did you know I'd come?"
His smile is mysterious, his eyes narrowed against the brilliant morning sun, and he doesn't answer.
She throws her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his, and he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him.
"I want to hold the world in my hands," she whispers against his mouth.
"And run with it?" he replies, his lips curving upward.
She nods and shares his smile.
"As far as we can go."
The film is a scary one and Rose is embarrassed when she hides her face against John's arm. She feels him laugh and he leans over to her, whispering, "I'll protect you," and he's close enough that his lips brush her ear and she's grateful for the darkness of the theater so that he can't see her blush., 1,836
He's sitting at the counter when she walks out of the kitchen and she pauses a moment to look at him. He's a new face, a stranger in this little town, an anomaly.
She finds her feet again and hurries to drop off the order on her tray to the only customers in the diner, four factory workers on their lunch break who ignore her as she walks away.
She sets her tray down and approaches the man, who smiles at her as she walks up.
"What can I get you?" she asks, anxious for him to speak so she can tell where he's from. She's quite good with accents now, having worked as a waitress for most of her teenage life.
"Banana cream pie," he replies, his eyes hopeful. She's unable to pinpoint his accent and she frowns.
"I'm sorry, we haven't got any."
He looks crestfallen and she hates that she disappointed him.
"What sort have you got?"
"Apple, strawberry, and cherry," she replies.
He muses a moment and his eyes fall to her name tag.
"Rose," he murmurs and the tiniest of smiles graces his lips. "Did you bake any of the pies today, Rose?"
"The strawberry," she says, feeling bemused and a little charmed.
"Then I'll have a piece of that."
She gets it for him and walks back over to her table to refill their drinks, surreptitiously watching the man out of the corner of her eye.
His feet rest pigeon-toed in well-worn canvas shoes on the small ledge running along the underside of the counter and his clothes seem old but well taken care of. There's no bag that she can see and her curiosity is piqued as she heads back behind the counter.
"Where are you from?" she says and then catches herself, adding, "If you don't mind me asking."
He shakes his head, swallows a bite of pie. "All over. Bit of a traveler, me."
"A drifter?" Rose asks, her nose crinkling in distaste almost against her will. They've had their share of drifters here and it's never turned out well.
"Drifter? Oh, no, I don't like that word. I don't drift. I wander."
"So you're a wanderer." Rose nods, trying to hide a smirk. "Are you... wandering about for any particular reason?"
He shakes his head again. "Nope. Just wandering. I like to see where the road takes me."
"The road has brought you here, apparently. Have you got a name?"
"John Smith," he answers promptly, raising another forkful of pie to his mouth.
"An anonymous wanderer," Rose says, raising her eyebrows.
"No! No, no, no! John Smith, it's my true and honest name!" His hand automatically moves to the back pocket of his pants, in search of a wallet, before he seems to remember something. "Right, no wallet. But it stands all the same," he says, pointing a finger at her.
The factory workers are staring impatiently at her and she holds up her hand before hurrying over to them, taking their money and giving them change. They leave the restaurant, grumbling all the way, and when Rose turns around she discovers that her mystery man has vanished as well, leaving behind some money on the counter for his pie.
She thinks this is the last she'll see of John Smith but he's back the next day, once again inquiring after pie. She has to disappoint him again but tells him that she baked the cherry today and he accepts a slice of that.
He asks her where he can find work and she tells him that the farmers are always looking for some helpers.
He thanks her and stands to leave, pulling some money from his pocket.
"Will you be back tomorrow?" she asks.
"Only if you'll have banana cream pie," he says, grinning at her.
She smiles and watches him go.
When he returns the next day she does indeed have banana cream pie waiting for him and he beams, delighted as he goes after it with his fork.
"Any luck finding a job?" she asks.
He nods. "There's a farmer up the road, promised me room and board if I'd help him bale up hay."
"That's a lot of work," Rose says, casting an apprehensive look at his thin frame.
"I'm stronger than I look," he says with a wink and she grins.
A week after their first meeting he asks her to go with him to the movies. She doesn't even know what's playing but she readily agrees to go with him. He smiles widely, pleased, and tells her that he'll meet her at the theater.
She's doesn't know how to dress, unsure if he thinks of this as a date or not, so she picks a simple cotton dress, bright yellow with little eyelets at the top and bottom, topping it with a plain white sweater and white flats on her feet.
He grins when he sees her and declares her quite lovely as they approach the ticket booth. A look of horror passes over his face as he reaches into his pocket and she realizes he doesn't have any money.
She smiles warmly at him and pulls a few bills from her purse. "This one's on me. But next time you're paying."
He nods at her, looking solemn. "Fair enough."
She takes their tickets from the man behind the booth and hands John his, their fingers brushing together briefly.
The film is a scary one and Rose is embarrassed when she hides her face against John's arm. She feels him laugh and he leans over to her, whispering, "I'll protect you," and he's close enough that his lips brush her ear and she's grateful for the darkness of the theater so that he can't see her blush.
He walks her home after the movie. Their course is slow, neither of them in too big a hurry and she notices his eyes on the sky, staring at the stars.
"Where have you traveled to?" she asks, pulling his gaze down to her.
"I told you, all over. Started out in California and I've been slowly making my way east."
"Are you looking for something?"
He shrugs, turning his face back toward the sky. "If I am, I'll know it when I find it."
Rose keeps her eyes on his profile for a moment longer, noticing that he looks a bit melancholy now and wondering if she's upset him. His hand soon brushes against hers, though, curling around her palm, fingers sliding down to lock with hers and she smiles.
They reach her door and stand in the warm glow of the porch light. She smiles up at him, thanking him for the invite. He in turn thanks her for paying and promises that next time he'll have money.
Next time, Rose thinks, a thrill running through her.
He leans towards her and his lips are soft, the kiss chaste but sending shivers down Rose's spine all the same.
He smiles and wishes her a good night as he sees her into her house. She watches him walk back to the road, hands in his pockets and his eyes on the stars and smiles to herself, raising a hand to her lips.
It's been a month since he arrived and he's eating his usual piece of pie when he gives her a serious look.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, Rose," he says and she freezes in the middle of wiping off the counter.
"Leaving?"
"My work for the farmer is over with and I think it's time to move on."
She stares at him, cursing the tightness in her throat and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
He sees her stricken look and smiles.
"I want you to come with me."
She shakes her head. "I can't."
"Why not?" he asks, setting down his fork.
"I can't just... up and leave. I've got a life here, responsibilities."
"You're worth more than this little town, Rose. You deserve to see the world, to hold it in your hands and run with it."
She smiles wistfully. "You've got stars in your eyes, Mr. Smith." She shakes her head. "And banana cream pie on your lip."
He leans across the counter towards her, grinning playfully, and she laughs, bending to kiss him, tasting the pie on his lips.
When she begins to straighten up, he places a hand on her cheek, lightly stroking her skin with his thumb.
"I'm planning to be gone by 9:00 tomorrow morning. I'll be at the county line if you change your mind."
He gives her another kiss and it's longer this time, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling briefly in her hair. The kiss ends and he leans his forehead against hers for just a moment before turning and walking out of the diner.
Rose watches him go, tears in her eyes.
The sunlight wakes her up the next morning and she lies in bed a moment, staring up at her ceiling. When she thinks of John she imagines he's probably gone by now and the tightness is in her throat again.
She sighs and tosses the sheets aside, sitting on the edge of her bed and glancing at her clock. It's ten minutes to nine and her mind suddenly makes the decision for her, propelling her from the edge of her bed.
She dresses quickly, throwing some clothes haphazardly into a small knapsack, pulling a wad of bills from under her mattress and tossing it in on top of the clothes.
She wastes no time looking around her house, realizing she'll never miss it, and starts to run down the road, her shoes kicking up dust, her skirt fluttering around her knees, her hair a stream of gold behind her.
She reaches the county sign and stops, breathing hard and pressing her hand to her side. She scans the roadside, unable to spot him, and the disappointment begins to settle into her chest as she realizes that she's missed him.
She swallows hard against the lump in her throat and starts to turn back towards town when she sees him across the road, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against an old car, painted a vibrant shade of blue.
He smiles broadly at her and she grins, dashing across the road.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"Five and a half hours," he replies, grinning.
"Liar."
"Five and a half hours," he says again, "true and honest."
"How did you know I'd come?"
His smile is mysterious, his eyes narrowed against the brilliant morning sun, and he doesn't answer.
She throws her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his, and he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him.
"I want to hold the world in my hands," she whispers against his mouth.
"And run with it?" he replies, his lips curving upward.
She nods and shares his smile.
"As far as we can go."