Moments
Title: Moments
Pairing: Multiple
Rating: G
Word Count: 980
Summary: "Heavy pockets never measure what carries weight and lasts forever." - Donovan Lyman
Note: I wrote this and then received a little message from the person I had in mind that really just... you know? Anyway, I hope you like this. In my opinion, it's rather horrid, but I hope you manage to find something nice about it.
You were taking me home.
You had offered out of habit, I knew, because you had always been just a bit more considerate with me than with most others. It wasn't as though I couldn't get home on my own, but maybe it was just that you knew I loved you around (loved you). It wasn't as though home was ever very far away and it wasn't as though we saw much of each other anymore, with our separate lives and separate things and separate lovers.
That's what I called him, anyway. I didn't know what else there was. "Boyfriend" aroused too many questions and he certainly wasn't my husband; he was the man the surprised me at work with my favorite lunch, the man that kissed sweet and loving on goodbyes and excitedly on hellos. My friends adored him, my family too-we should have been perfect.
But there was you.
You, the person that didn't always know what to say and knew that simple fact, even embraced it. You were the person that popped up in all my thoughts without hesitation, the person that I couldn't wait to see as soon as we parted. You were the person whose handwriting I memorized, whose shoe size I couldn't remember but whose favorite flavor of ice cream was of vital importance to me. You were the person that didn't bring gifts but brought yourself and a funny story, the person that showed me an open mind and the person that opened me as I will never be pried open again.
He is a fine man. But you… You are everything.
I wish I could tell you, as I could have such a long time ago. The words would have slipped from my mouth without a second thought (you liked those little phrases). I could have written you a letter or slipped a note into one of your books for you to find later. I could have mumbled it into your hair or your neck, could have told you between kisses. But things are different now and there's no place for such nonsense.
The front door came into sight and you were there again, just in front of my house. The image of you suddenly came to mind in so many different forms-blue jackets, yellow tees, brown shorts, worn sneakers, shivering, shaking, smiling, laughing. I could almost feel the tug of your arms around my waist as though it was happening at that very moment. But you were standing four feet in front of me.
You were standing four feet in front of me.
I grabbed your shoulders, tipping you in my direction to give you the chance to take your pick. You looked down at your shoes because why would you want to meet my begging eyes? Why would you want to see? (How did you ever see me?)
You pried my fingers from your jacket and looked up into my face, your wide eyes contemplating me. The thudding in my chest became almost unbearable; this feeling had never been this strong before. (I needed you.) I had never understood my body's reaction to you but every time it felt brand new, and you didn't even have to touch me.
Closing the distance between us with a step forward, you dug your face into the bottom of my neck. I could feel your warm breath against my skin. I heard a smile in your sigh and your arms wrapped around my waist in a gentle hug.
"You have no reason to be this nervous." You said, practically laughing for a moment. I breathed deeply and my hands drifted to your cheeks, brushing the hair away. You wouldn't look up at me, just kept your nose in the crook of my neck, your fingers lightly gripping my jacket.
"It's just…"
"I know."
I tilted your head back with my thumbs, my eyes tracing over each detail of your face. I had to memorize it (what if I never saw you again?). I shooed the hair from your eyes, just as I always had; I needed you to remember.
"I love you so much."
You sighed and looked down, digging your face back into its crevice, the steadiness of your breath being of some comfort. Everything was so familiar.
"You can't say that." You mumbled, pressing my hips to yours. "You can't keep this up much longer."
"I'll keep it up as long as I have to." Your hair was a good microphone.
"I wish you wouldn't say that." But I felt your lips press a small, gentle kiss to the base of my neck-a peace offering.
"If I kiss you, will you stop saying it?"
I considered this. It was the only sort of deal you had ever made since everything happened. So I agreed.
I didn't expect more than a typical goodbye, but something fired within you just as it had in me and you made that quite clear. Your hand pulled at my shirt collar in attempt to bring me closer, your fingers gripping more tightly to my jacket. My hands mussed your hair, my arm sliding around your torso because we could never be close enough, could never achieve an intimacy that two people desired as one.
You didn't stop. The kisses kept coming and the memories all came rushing back into my mind (I hoped it was the same for you). I could not pull you closer, could not bring you near enough to me to even begin to convey how much I needed you in those moments. Your hand slid to the back of my neck and you delved deeper. Never before had you shown such delight in me, never had you shown so much strength and passion.
For a moment, it was as if you loved me.
But only for a moment.
Pairing: Multiple
Rating: G
Word Count: 980
Summary: "Heavy pockets never measure what carries weight and lasts forever." - Donovan Lyman
Note: I wrote this and then received a little message from the person I had in mind that really just... you know? Anyway, I hope you like this. In my opinion, it's rather horrid, but I hope you manage to find something nice about it.
You were taking me home.
You had offered out of habit, I knew, because you had always been just a bit more considerate with me than with most others. It wasn't as though I couldn't get home on my own, but maybe it was just that you knew I loved you around (loved you). It wasn't as though home was ever very far away and it wasn't as though we saw much of each other anymore, with our separate lives and separate things and separate lovers.
That's what I called him, anyway. I didn't know what else there was. "Boyfriend" aroused too many questions and he certainly wasn't my husband; he was the man the surprised me at work with my favorite lunch, the man that kissed sweet and loving on goodbyes and excitedly on hellos. My friends adored him, my family too-we should have been perfect.
But there was you.
You, the person that didn't always know what to say and knew that simple fact, even embraced it. You were the person that popped up in all my thoughts without hesitation, the person that I couldn't wait to see as soon as we parted. You were the person whose handwriting I memorized, whose shoe size I couldn't remember but whose favorite flavor of ice cream was of vital importance to me. You were the person that didn't bring gifts but brought yourself and a funny story, the person that showed me an open mind and the person that opened me as I will never be pried open again.
He is a fine man. But you… You are everything.
I wish I could tell you, as I could have such a long time ago. The words would have slipped from my mouth without a second thought (you liked those little phrases). I could have written you a letter or slipped a note into one of your books for you to find later. I could have mumbled it into your hair or your neck, could have told you between kisses. But things are different now and there's no place for such nonsense.
The front door came into sight and you were there again, just in front of my house. The image of you suddenly came to mind in so many different forms-blue jackets, yellow tees, brown shorts, worn sneakers, shivering, shaking, smiling, laughing. I could almost feel the tug of your arms around my waist as though it was happening at that very moment. But you were standing four feet in front of me.
You were standing four feet in front of me.
I grabbed your shoulders, tipping you in my direction to give you the chance to take your pick. You looked down at your shoes because why would you want to meet my begging eyes? Why would you want to see? (How did you ever see me?)
You pried my fingers from your jacket and looked up into my face, your wide eyes contemplating me. The thudding in my chest became almost unbearable; this feeling had never been this strong before. (I needed you.) I had never understood my body's reaction to you but every time it felt brand new, and you didn't even have to touch me.
Closing the distance between us with a step forward, you dug your face into the bottom of my neck. I could feel your warm breath against my skin. I heard a smile in your sigh and your arms wrapped around my waist in a gentle hug.
"You have no reason to be this nervous." You said, practically laughing for a moment. I breathed deeply and my hands drifted to your cheeks, brushing the hair away. You wouldn't look up at me, just kept your nose in the crook of my neck, your fingers lightly gripping my jacket.
"It's just…"
"I know."
I tilted your head back with my thumbs, my eyes tracing over each detail of your face. I had to memorize it (what if I never saw you again?). I shooed the hair from your eyes, just as I always had; I needed you to remember.
"I love you so much."
You sighed and looked down, digging your face back into its crevice, the steadiness of your breath being of some comfort. Everything was so familiar.
"You can't say that." You mumbled, pressing my hips to yours. "You can't keep this up much longer."
"I'll keep it up as long as I have to." Your hair was a good microphone.
"I wish you wouldn't say that." But I felt your lips press a small, gentle kiss to the base of my neck-a peace offering.
"If I kiss you, will you stop saying it?"
I considered this. It was the only sort of deal you had ever made since everything happened. So I agreed.
I didn't expect more than a typical goodbye, but something fired within you just as it had in me and you made that quite clear. Your hand pulled at my shirt collar in attempt to bring me closer, your fingers gripping more tightly to my jacket. My hands mussed your hair, my arm sliding around your torso because we could never be close enough, could never achieve an intimacy that two people desired as one.
You didn't stop. The kisses kept coming and the memories all came rushing back into my mind (I hoped it was the same for you). I could not pull you closer, could not bring you near enough to me to even begin to convey how much I needed you in those moments. Your hand slid to the back of my neck and you delved deeper. Never before had you shown such delight in me, never had you shown so much strength and passion.
For a moment, it was as if you loved me.
But only for a moment.