[FIC] Regret
Title: Regret
Pairing/Fandom: Luke/Reid, ATWT
Rating: PG
Word Count: 402
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author's Note: I couldn't get this out of my mind. It had to be written. This is pretty much just my personal head canon put to words. I'm a hopeless romantic at heart.
“I should leave.”
The air is cold when Luke lifts the covers away, pushing his feet onto even colder ground. Reid wishes he would stop moving so damn much.
He hates the cold.
“And where are you going to go? Back to him?” The words come out bitter and hollow, even to his ears.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Luke stands and the blankets fall back into place. The cold doesn’t go away.
“Does it matter?”
And for just a moment, he thinks about how easy lying would be.
How simple and uncomplicated it would make this mess of a situation, to have all those feelings he has barely admitted to himself walk out that door and never come back. How easy it would be to let that brown eyed boy with the smile for days and days fall into the warm arms of someone else, while he would be left here in the quiet, clean darkness of his empty room.
But then he remembers what if felt like to watch those eyes look at that someone else. And God help him, he can hardly stand the thought.
So right there, in the quiet, clean darkness of his not so empty room, he makes a decision.
“Would it make you stay if I said it did?” He breathes out, barely a whisper. He’s not sure how the words come out this time.
But Luke stops moving, and his world stands still.
“Yeah, Reid.” The cold starts to ebb away. “It would.”
The next few moments move like water through his icy mind, flowing and melting into something he will later come to understand as fate telling him to do what he wants for once, to be selfish.
Before he can realize exactly what it is he’s doing, the covers are being pushed to the side, forgotten at the foot of his bed. His bare feet hit cold floor, moving through the space between that empty bed and the person he has somehow come to think of as home.
His hands find soft, familiar skin in the dark. He hears a gentle gasp, a sudden intake of breathe coming from the shaking man in front of him. And he knows exactly what needs to be said. What should have been said a long time ago.
“It matters, Luke.” And for once, what he intends to say is actually what comes out. “It has always mattered.”
Pairing/Fandom: Luke/Reid, ATWT
Rating: PG
Word Count: 402
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author's Note: I couldn't get this out of my mind. It had to be written. This is pretty much just my personal head canon put to words. I'm a hopeless romantic at heart.
“I should leave.”
The air is cold when Luke lifts the covers away, pushing his feet onto even colder ground. Reid wishes he would stop moving so damn much.
He hates the cold.
“And where are you going to go? Back to him?” The words come out bitter and hollow, even to his ears.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Luke stands and the blankets fall back into place. The cold doesn’t go away.
“Does it matter?”
And for just a moment, he thinks about how easy lying would be.
How simple and uncomplicated it would make this mess of a situation, to have all those feelings he has barely admitted to himself walk out that door and never come back. How easy it would be to let that brown eyed boy with the smile for days and days fall into the warm arms of someone else, while he would be left here in the quiet, clean darkness of his empty room.
But then he remembers what if felt like to watch those eyes look at that someone else. And God help him, he can hardly stand the thought.
So right there, in the quiet, clean darkness of his not so empty room, he makes a decision.
“Would it make you stay if I said it did?” He breathes out, barely a whisper. He’s not sure how the words come out this time.
But Luke stops moving, and his world stands still.
“Yeah, Reid.” The cold starts to ebb away. “It would.”
The next few moments move like water through his icy mind, flowing and melting into something he will later come to understand as fate telling him to do what he wants for once, to be selfish.
Before he can realize exactly what it is he’s doing, the covers are being pushed to the side, forgotten at the foot of his bed. His bare feet hit cold floor, moving through the space between that empty bed and the person he has somehow come to think of as home.
His hands find soft, familiar skin in the dark. He hears a gentle gasp, a sudden intake of breathe coming from the shaking man in front of him. And he knows exactly what needs to be said. What should have been said a long time ago.
“It matters, Luke.” And for once, what he intends to say is actually what comes out. “It has always mattered.”