and you float like a cannonball
Title: Almost
Rating: PG
Genre: RPF
Pairing: Sarah Wayne Callies/Wentworth Miller
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break, although I wish I did. If I did, there would be a lot more shirtless boys, and a lot more of the kissage.
Summary: She didn’t even know how he felt about her. Well, she thought she knew. Looking into those eyes, she knew.
Author's Notes: This is for muldy's prompt of Questions... Yeah. It fits. I swear it does. Just tilt your eyes and squint a little. I apologise for the crappiness of it. *hides* Un-beta'd, cause I'm like that.
Her thoughts astounded her these days.
She was actually thinking of cheating on her husband with a man she worked with. A man she had known for less than two years. She had been with her husband for so long.
God, she hated herself in that moment. She couldn’t for the life of her remember when she had gotten married, when they met, when they had started dating, why they had started dating.
And yet, she could remember the exact moment when she had met him. What he was wearing, what she was wearing, his smell, exactly what he said to her. She could replay the moment over and over in her mind a thousand times. And she had.
She couldn’t believe her thoughts. She couldn’t believe that these thoughts were hers. How could she be so sure that she was thinking these things?
These wonderful things with a beautiful man. The taste of his kiss (peppermint, she imagined), the touch of his skin, the sound of his voice saying her name. He made her feel so many things. Joy, happiness, (God, she had butterflies in her stomach, just thinking about him), lust. But was that all this was? Lust? How was she willing to give away years (god, how many years?) of marriage to a man who loved her, who she loved, for lust? For a man with deep blue eyes. Soul-searching eyes, and a voice that made her weak in the knees, made her quiver (oh, my, that voice of his)?
She didn’t even know how he felt about her. Well, she thought she knew. Looking into those eyes, she knew. He had almost told her once. Almost.
“I think I have a problem.” He said one night, after a long day filming a particularly arduous scene.
“What’s that?” she said, making the mistake of looking up at him, at those eyes. Her breath caught in her throat for an instant as she tried to remember how to breathe.
He leaned closer to her, she could almost feel his breath on her face, and swallowed, hard.
“I, um...” he stuttered.
He never stuttered, something must be wrong, she thought.
“You what? What’s wrong?” She asked, genuinely concerned.
“I think I have feelings for...” he said, barely above a whisper. He had a way of speaking that made her melt a little every time he spoke, no matter what he was saying.
“Feelings for...?” she wanted, needed, for him to continue.
He leaned a little closer to her, looking at her closely, taking in everything about her face, like he was etching it into his memory.
Just then, her cell phone rang. She silently cursed that she hadn't turned it off.
He looked down at her handbag on the bench next to them.
And rang.
She looked at it, not wanting to break the moment, quickly found her cell phone in the side pocket.
Josh read the caller ID.
At that moment, she remembered her husband. A sharp intake of breath entered her lungs and she realised she was holding her breath.
She looked up at Wentworth, shaking her head. She gave him a look of regret,
“I have to take this, I’m sorry.”
Not leaving enough time for a response, she quickly flipped open the phone and answered the call.
She wasn’t sure, but for a split-second, she thought she saw him sigh.
So she knew, didn’t she? How he felt. Or maybe she didn’t know at all. Maybe he was going to tell her he had feelings for Robin, or Dominic, even? It was possible. Not highly probable, but possible, nonetheless.
At least she knew how she felt. Except she didn’t. She doubted whether her own thoughts were her own thoughts, so she clearly didn’t know how she felt about the beautiful man with the soul-searching eyes and the knee-weakening voice.
Except some part of her did. She knew that she was attracted to him, it was impossible not to be. But a part of her thought of her husband. The sane part, the sensible part, the part of her that still had a conscience.
But the fact of the matter was, no matter how many parts of her thought she was falling for another man, all of her was married.
She could never do anything about any of it. Not if she wanted to live with herself after the crash and fall.
So almost would have to do, she would never truly know how he felt, or how she felt. But at least she could go to bed at night knowing she was faithful to the man she had loved for the better part of the last decade.
Rating: PG
Genre: RPF
Pairing: Sarah Wayne Callies/Wentworth Miller
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break, although I wish I did. If I did, there would be a lot more shirtless boys, and a lot more of the kissage.
Summary: She didn’t even know how he felt about her. Well, she thought she knew. Looking into those eyes, she knew.
Author's Notes: This is for muldy's prompt of Questions... Yeah. It fits. I swear it does. Just tilt your eyes and squint a little. I apologise for the crappiness of it. *hides* Un-beta'd, cause I'm like that.
Her thoughts astounded her these days.
She was actually thinking of cheating on her husband with a man she worked with. A man she had known for less than two years. She had been with her husband for so long.
God, she hated herself in that moment. She couldn’t for the life of her remember when she had gotten married, when they met, when they had started dating, why they had started dating.
And yet, she could remember the exact moment when she had met him. What he was wearing, what she was wearing, his smell, exactly what he said to her. She could replay the moment over and over in her mind a thousand times. And she had.
She couldn’t believe her thoughts. She couldn’t believe that these thoughts were hers. How could she be so sure that she was thinking these things?
These wonderful things with a beautiful man. The taste of his kiss (peppermint, she imagined), the touch of his skin, the sound of his voice saying her name. He made her feel so many things. Joy, happiness, (God, she had butterflies in her stomach, just thinking about him), lust. But was that all this was? Lust? How was she willing to give away years (god, how many years?) of marriage to a man who loved her, who she loved, for lust? For a man with deep blue eyes. Soul-searching eyes, and a voice that made her weak in the knees, made her quiver (oh, my, that voice of his)?
She didn’t even know how he felt about her. Well, she thought she knew. Looking into those eyes, she knew. He had almost told her once. Almost.
“I think I have a problem.” He said one night, after a long day filming a particularly arduous scene.
“What’s that?” she said, making the mistake of looking up at him, at those eyes. Her breath caught in her throat for an instant as she tried to remember how to breathe.
He leaned closer to her, she could almost feel his breath on her face, and swallowed, hard.
“I, um...” he stuttered.
He never stuttered, something must be wrong, she thought.
“You what? What’s wrong?” She asked, genuinely concerned.
“I think I have feelings for...” he said, barely above a whisper. He had a way of speaking that made her melt a little every time he spoke, no matter what he was saying.
“Feelings for...?” she wanted, needed, for him to continue.
He leaned a little closer to her, looking at her closely, taking in everything about her face, like he was etching it into his memory.
Just then, her cell phone rang. She silently cursed that she hadn't turned it off.
He looked down at her handbag on the bench next to them.
And rang.
She looked at it, not wanting to break the moment, quickly found her cell phone in the side pocket.
Josh read the caller ID.
At that moment, she remembered her husband. A sharp intake of breath entered her lungs and she realised she was holding her breath.
She looked up at Wentworth, shaking her head. She gave him a look of regret,
“I have to take this, I’m sorry.”
Not leaving enough time for a response, she quickly flipped open the phone and answered the call.
She wasn’t sure, but for a split-second, she thought she saw him sigh.
So she knew, didn’t she? How he felt. Or maybe she didn’t know at all. Maybe he was going to tell her he had feelings for Robin, or Dominic, even? It was possible. Not highly probable, but possible, nonetheless.
At least she knew how she felt. Except she didn’t. She doubted whether her own thoughts were her own thoughts, so she clearly didn’t know how she felt about the beautiful man with the soul-searching eyes and the knee-weakening voice.
Except some part of her did. She knew that she was attracted to him, it was impossible not to be. But a part of her thought of her husband. The sane part, the sensible part, the part of her that still had a conscience.
But the fact of the matter was, no matter how many parts of her thought she was falling for another man, all of her was married.
She could never do anything about any of it. Not if she wanted to live with herself after the crash and fall.
So almost would have to do, she would never truly know how he felt, or how she felt. But at least she could go to bed at night knowing she was faithful to the man she had loved for the better part of the last decade.