{fic} Don't Say A Thing - RPF, Mandy Musgrave/Gabrielle Christian, one shot
Oh dear me. That damn porn battle got me all into this coupling. RPF is really not my thing - but apparently, when it comes to these two, I'll do about anything. ;)
is this where we spill secrets too sweet to whisper? is this where i lose what i never had?
She watches her sleep and ignores the voice in her head that says 'hey, that's weird, don't do that... close your eyes!'
She ignores and reaches out so slowly and brushes a hand over the woman's forehead, pushing strands of hair back to where they should be. And at the last minute, before brows furrow and lashes flutter, one cool fingertip slides over the surface of smooth skin... drag, drag, dragging...
And Gabrielle blinks. And then Gabrielle looks at the clock (reading one in the morning). And then she looks at Mandy's back, dips and shadows and barely covered.
And Gabrielle must have been dreaming about someones touch.
/ / /
She won't say a thing. And then she leaves it to a made-up girl to speak about such matters - at a fake doorway to a false house, staring into a well-crafted gaze of broken blue.
Ashley can hurt Spencer.
Mandy can't hurt Gabrielle.
There's the difference.
So, she doesn't say a thing. And she waits for the nights that the woman cannot stay awake, falling into slumber before whatever bad movie is over, golden head on a borrowed pillow.
And she watches the woman sleep, again and again, retracing those lips until her own eyes burn.
/ / /
are we too close? did we cross a line? can you spend the night? can you drive me home?
'Just once...'
That's what you say. That's the excuse in your brain, justification for a heart too involved and a body too willing.
And you both taste like vodka. And there are patches of sweat just now cooling off.
It is just the two of you.
Like so many times before... like forever it seems.
Gabrielle's dress is so thin, a butterfly wing, and in the grip of Mandy's fist it just tears. Lips meet, shy and still too damn sober, but all those attempts at drunkenness heat up and evaporate and they are left with each other.
Like so many times before.
/ / /
She watches her sleep, legs going one way and spine curved and head tucked down, a woman in mid-dive... and yet they are jumping together, Mandy's front to Gabrielle's back.
She gets a closer view tonight.
And she brushes her hand over those strands of hair. And Gabrielle blinks.
And they know that they are both caught now.
/ / /
::END::
is this where we spill secrets too sweet to whisper? is this where i lose what i never had?
She watches her sleep and ignores the voice in her head that says 'hey, that's weird, don't do that... close your eyes!'
She ignores and reaches out so slowly and brushes a hand over the woman's forehead, pushing strands of hair back to where they should be. And at the last minute, before brows furrow and lashes flutter, one cool fingertip slides over the surface of smooth skin... drag, drag, dragging...
And Gabrielle blinks. And then Gabrielle looks at the clock (reading one in the morning). And then she looks at Mandy's back, dips and shadows and barely covered.
And Gabrielle must have been dreaming about someones touch.
/ / /
She won't say a thing. And then she leaves it to a made-up girl to speak about such matters - at a fake doorway to a false house, staring into a well-crafted gaze of broken blue.
Ashley can hurt Spencer.
Mandy can't hurt Gabrielle.
There's the difference.
So, she doesn't say a thing. And she waits for the nights that the woman cannot stay awake, falling into slumber before whatever bad movie is over, golden head on a borrowed pillow.
And she watches the woman sleep, again and again, retracing those lips until her own eyes burn.
/ / /
are we too close? did we cross a line? can you spend the night? can you drive me home?
'Just once...'
That's what you say. That's the excuse in your brain, justification for a heart too involved and a body too willing.
And you both taste like vodka. And there are patches of sweat just now cooling off.
It is just the two of you.
Like so many times before... like forever it seems.
Gabrielle's dress is so thin, a butterfly wing, and in the grip of Mandy's fist it just tears. Lips meet, shy and still too damn sober, but all those attempts at drunkenness heat up and evaporate and they are left with each other.
Like so many times before.
/ / /
She watches her sleep, legs going one way and spine curved and head tucked down, a woman in mid-dive... and yet they are jumping together, Mandy's front to Gabrielle's back.
She gets a closer view tonight.
And she brushes her hand over those strands of hair. And Gabrielle blinks.
And they know that they are both caught now.
/ / /
::END::