Fic: Mocking Lillies

Aug 12, 2009 07:32

Mocking Lillies
by Erin Griffin
Fandom: Murder In Suburbia
Pairing: unrequited(?) Ash/Scribbs
Summary: With a small bunch of lillies in her hand, she tries to speak her heart...
Disclaimer: ITV owns Ash and Scribbs. I am just playing with them and I promise to return them unscathed to the toychest.
Author's Note: I was inspired by a meme. Ten MiS drabbles made me happier than I have been since IDF.



Back, forth. Back, forth. Left, right...

I wrung my hands as I pace outside the door, not sure if I should let myself in and make my way to your flat. I had things I wanted to say. Very important things. Things that would escape out of nowhere one day if I don't say them now. I make an unlady-like sound at the thought of being on an inquiry when my big mouth asks how long I've loved you instead of where the suspect had been the night of the murder. I look down at the lilies in my hand and wondered how you will receive them, if you will like them. I remember you once speaking about the flowers at a said future wedding, and there was a full layout of where they would be. Two months later, it had been decided that I didn't care about the flowers as long as I married you. If only it were legal.

I have to do this. I'll go mad if I don't.

I sigh, having held my breath for longer than I had intended, and I finally let myself in, my grip on the lillies tightening with each step. 'Oh god, what am I doing?' How am I to start the conversation I knew I didn't want to have? Is it even fair of me to put you in this slightly humiliating situation? I look at my watch. Perhaps I should call again tomorrow. Might you be asleep by now? Would it be any easier if I backed out now? Will I still have the courage in the morning?

I find your door, and pause; some of my confidence has failed me after questions of doubt formed. Slowly, I raise my fist and knock. There's a silence, and I wonder if I might need to knock a little harder, but the doorknob jiggles before suddenly you are there, hair toussled, standing before me in an oversized shirt and little else. I fight my hands, which itch to touch. I mentally scold myself. "Hey. Are you okay?" you ask me, and my words don't come at first.

"Yeah, I just-"

"Everything alright?" A deep voice is heard from somewhere unseen. Your eyes close for a second as 'The Newest One' walks to the door bare chested. I realize it is his shirt you sport right now, and I swallow the emotions that threaten to make an ass of me. I smile sweetly, hoping it is even a little sly.

"I didn't realize you had company," I want to joke, but I don't. I just nod. Instead, all that stumbles through my quivering lips is, "Its late, I shouldn't have come by." I even pride myself that my hurt and jealousy couldn't be heard in those words. I'm kidding myself. You can hear it.You know me too well not to. I turn and leave, forgetting at first the lillies in my hand before I drop them at the top of the stairs. 'The Newest One' says something, and by the tremer of his voice, I could tell that it ended in a question. 'Is she going to be alright?' My feet make a quick rhythm as they fly down the steps and out the door. I hurry to my car and drive off.

Only when I am a safe distance away do I let the tears come. I've fought them for too long now, and I'm surprised none of them had fallen in front of you, letting you know all that I had to say without ever uttering a word. How embaressing that would have been.

How embaressing it is now. How do I face you now? What do I tell you when you ask me what I wanted to tell you tonight?

I love you, damn it.

As I, too, dress for another lonely night, I wonder what it is about 'The Newest One' that captivates you in ways the others haven't, what he might have said or done that led him to be with you in the way he is now. In the way I'll never be. I wonder how long 'The Newest One' will last before I hear all of the things that make him yet another mistake in your dating history. I sigh as I lay my head on my pillow and ward off the dreams of you that I know I will have, most likely involving me as some sort of knight in shining armor, or something weird involving ballet. Again.

The next morning I am greeted by the sight of the lillies in a vase on my desk. There is no note from you, but I know it is you who put them there. I wonder where you are, part of me hoping I'm sent on an assignment without you so I wouldn't have to face you right away, and the other part of me wanting to get it all over with and face the conciquence of my stupidity of the night before. I slump in my seat and stare at the lillies on my desk after a moment, the white petals mocking me as I try to decipher what they mean.
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