come home
Title: Come Home
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
About: Something short about love.
Extract: And she said, "I want you to be right here." And in a dreamworld, he saw himself close the laptop and throw it in his bag, rush out to his car and drive to the airport.
Inspiration: A few Mumford & Sons tracks that I've had on repeat for hours, which have left me in a gloom. And caused me to once again overuse a certain conjunction.
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It was Sunday evening when he awoke sprawled across his bed. A mild headache had him reaching for the bottle of water he kept on his nightstand, the liquid cool against his lips. Soft, gentle snores came from the other side of the bed, and Ben smiled to himself as he turned to look at her. But instead of finding her there next to him, his eyes focused on his laptop, open. His Leslie, asleep. Far away in Pawnee. She sighed in her sleep and Ben curled back up on the bed there next to the screen, unable to look away. The autumn sun lingered in the curls of her blond hair and he wanted to reach out and run his fingers through it, but was saddened because he couldn't. For a moment, he studied her face. How her skin seemed sunkissed, and how sleep blushed her cheeks raspberry pink. Her eyelashes were dark and long and moving slightly through her dreams, and Ben's smile softened.
Skype dates were good, sometimes even great, but he wanted to fast forward and pack up his things and get on a redeye and get a rental and drive through the night and buy cheap gas station flowers and see her face and eyes and wonderfully curled hair as he finally stepped up on her porch and knocked on her door. If only time could move faster. Sighing, he closed his eyes, if only for a moment, because he didn't want to leave. The sounds of her breath faded out and there was a pause, where he opened his eyes and saw her adjust to the Pawnee sun, and then she looked at her laptop, and oh, how she smiled. A wide, heartwarming smile that made his heart skip a beat. "Hi," she whispered. And he wanted to tell her how much he wanted to be there, to be right fucking there, just an inch away, just a breath away, but instead he smiled and asked what she'd dreamed and watched her brush the blond curls away from her face. But his smile disappeared when she said, "I dreamed that you were right here." And she said, "I want you to be right here."
And in a dreamworld, he saw himself close the laptop and throw it in his bag, rush out to his car and drive to the airport. He saw himself fly across the country, rush through the clouds, and land just 90 miles away from her. He saw himself drive off in a rental, saw himself stop for gas, buy a cheap bouquet of sunflowers, and drive through Pawnee and out to her house and run to her porch and knock on her door. He saw her eyes glitter when she saw it was him. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her lips and cheek and neck, and smelled her hair and felt her warmth. And together, they walked inside where it was warm and everything smelled of her, and he couldn't stop kissing her even if he tried. But right there in reality, he watched her eyes tear up a bit, far away from Washington DC, far away from him. "I love you," he said, watching her smile and wanting nothing but to brush those tears away with his thumb. Hopelessly wishing time could move faster.
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Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating: PG
About: Something short about love.
Extract: And she said, "I want you to be right here." And in a dreamworld, he saw himself close the laptop and throw it in his bag, rush out to his car and drive to the airport.
Inspiration: A few Mumford & Sons tracks that I've had on repeat for hours, which have left me in a gloom. And caused me to once again overuse a certain conjunction.
-
It was Sunday evening when he awoke sprawled across his bed. A mild headache had him reaching for the bottle of water he kept on his nightstand, the liquid cool against his lips. Soft, gentle snores came from the other side of the bed, and Ben smiled to himself as he turned to look at her. But instead of finding her there next to him, his eyes focused on his laptop, open. His Leslie, asleep. Far away in Pawnee. She sighed in her sleep and Ben curled back up on the bed there next to the screen, unable to look away. The autumn sun lingered in the curls of her blond hair and he wanted to reach out and run his fingers through it, but was saddened because he couldn't. For a moment, he studied her face. How her skin seemed sunkissed, and how sleep blushed her cheeks raspberry pink. Her eyelashes were dark and long and moving slightly through her dreams, and Ben's smile softened.
Skype dates were good, sometimes even great, but he wanted to fast forward and pack up his things and get on a redeye and get a rental and drive through the night and buy cheap gas station flowers and see her face and eyes and wonderfully curled hair as he finally stepped up on her porch and knocked on her door. If only time could move faster. Sighing, he closed his eyes, if only for a moment, because he didn't want to leave. The sounds of her breath faded out and there was a pause, where he opened his eyes and saw her adjust to the Pawnee sun, and then she looked at her laptop, and oh, how she smiled. A wide, heartwarming smile that made his heart skip a beat. "Hi," she whispered. And he wanted to tell her how much he wanted to be there, to be right fucking there, just an inch away, just a breath away, but instead he smiled and asked what she'd dreamed and watched her brush the blond curls away from her face. But his smile disappeared when she said, "I dreamed that you were right here." And she said, "I want you to be right here."
And in a dreamworld, he saw himself close the laptop and throw it in his bag, rush out to his car and drive to the airport. He saw himself fly across the country, rush through the clouds, and land just 90 miles away from her. He saw himself drive off in a rental, saw himself stop for gas, buy a cheap bouquet of sunflowers, and drive through Pawnee and out to her house and run to her porch and knock on her door. He saw her eyes glitter when she saw it was him. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her lips and cheek and neck, and smelled her hair and felt her warmth. And together, they walked inside where it was warm and everything smelled of her, and he couldn't stop kissing her even if he tried. But right there in reality, he watched her eyes tear up a bit, far away from Washington DC, far away from him. "I love you," he said, watching her smile and wanting nothing but to brush those tears away with his thumb. Hopelessly wishing time could move faster.
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