Cardigans
Title - Cardigans
Author - bluesuzanne
Subject - Effy/Freddie
Spoilers - up to and including 4.07
Rating - T
Word Count - 238
Summary - A missing snippet from 4.07
Notes - I thought I may as well do something constructive whilst feeling like shit.
The jumper isn’t his.
And it isn’t a jumper. It’s a cardigan.
Freddie wears a lot of cardigans, Effy thinks, and she smiles the kind of smile that would normally come with laughter.
(Maybe a sigh.)
I should have asked John to erase them from my memory.
No. They’d still be there, lurking in his cupboard, ready to be worn in public at any moment.
She smiles again.
Freddie wears a lot of cardigans because they’re comfortable or he thinks they’re trendy or both.
(She asked him once - Why do you wear cardigans, Freddie? - and he looked down, his face coloured up, he didn’t answer.
He was embarrassed, she was sure, but he showed up at college the next day with an arched brow and How do you like my new one, Eff? It’s merino.
She laughed, slid her hands inside, felt her way to his shoulder blades, said she liked how it was big enough for two.)
Freddie wears a lot of cardigans, but this one has thin sleeves and soft tears along the neckline, the name of a department store that doesn’t exist anymore stitched on a label, and under it, in frayed mid-pink, ‘Ladies 8’.
It’s his mother’s, Effy thinks.
She wraps it around herself, lets the worn wool swallow her hands.
She closes her eyes and thinks of how his face will look when she shows up at his door.
Author - bluesuzanne
Subject - Effy/Freddie
Spoilers - up to and including 4.07
Rating - T
Word Count - 238
Summary - A missing snippet from 4.07
Notes - I thought I may as well do something constructive whilst feeling like shit.
The jumper isn’t his.
And it isn’t a jumper. It’s a cardigan.
Freddie wears a lot of cardigans, Effy thinks, and she smiles the kind of smile that would normally come with laughter.
(Maybe a sigh.)
I should have asked John to erase them from my memory.
No. They’d still be there, lurking in his cupboard, ready to be worn in public at any moment.
She smiles again.
Freddie wears a lot of cardigans because they’re comfortable or he thinks they’re trendy or both.
(She asked him once - Why do you wear cardigans, Freddie? - and he looked down, his face coloured up, he didn’t answer.
He was embarrassed, she was sure, but he showed up at college the next day with an arched brow and How do you like my new one, Eff? It’s merino.
She laughed, slid her hands inside, felt her way to his shoulder blades, said she liked how it was big enough for two.)
Freddie wears a lot of cardigans, but this one has thin sleeves and soft tears along the neckline, the name of a department store that doesn’t exist anymore stitched on a label, and under it, in frayed mid-pink, ‘Ladies 8’.
It’s his mother’s, Effy thinks.
She wraps it around herself, lets the worn wool swallow her hands.
She closes her eyes and thinks of how his face will look when she shows up at his door.