nothing but the best - angela/eli (pg)cloudyteaSeptember 17 2011, 02:42:11 UTC
Sorry it took so long, I'm afraid I ran into some writer's block.
He comes to visit a couple of weeks after Tommy’s born.
“Eli,” she smiles at the door, but her smile is a sad one -- he comes inside all the same.
She is beautiful even then, with the dark circles underneath her already dark eyes and long fingers stained in reds and greens that would glide gracefully across the canvas, brush in hand (raised on Vaudeville, he remembered Jimmy mentioning before over drinks, before he went to fight a war that’s swallowed him entirely.)
The child, a small thing with weary eyes that are almost aware of its future, a life without a father and a mother doomed to the criticism of society.
With seven children and another on the way, the boy’s head settles naturally into the crook of his arm, while strong hands support his tiny body. She smiles then, a genuine smile this time, and her eyes aren’t quite so dark anymore.
it's bound to melt your heart - Margaret/Richard (PG)la_petite_singeSeptember 16 2011, 19:43:08 UTC
what is this fluffy nonsense I don't evenThe beach dream changes after a few weeks, but in the moment it feels entirely natural: he's walking along that same stretch of sand, out near Coney Island where he and his sister used to go as kids, and suddenly she's there beside him, slipping her arm into his. And when he turns to look at her, somehow he's not at all surprised that it's not Pearl but Margaret, her brown eyes warm and content upon his face. It's only once he awakens that he realizes the shift. He's in one of the guest bedrooms now, no longer on the couch downstairs; Nucky hadn't thought much of the idea at first, but she had insisted in that gentle way of hers, saying that he was one of the household now and deserved better. She had made up the bed herself as he hovered in the doorway, both hands on the black leather bag containing everything he owned in the world these days. "There, that's better," she'd said, once she'd arranged the pillow just so and opened the curtains to let in the sunlight. "I do hope you'll be more
( ... )
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He comes to visit a couple of weeks after Tommy’s born.
“Eli,” she smiles at the door, but her smile is a sad one -- he comes inside all the same.
She is beautiful even then, with the dark circles underneath her already dark eyes and long fingers stained in reds and greens that would glide gracefully across the canvas, brush in hand (raised on Vaudeville, he remembered Jimmy mentioning before over drinks, before he went to fight a war that’s swallowed him entirely.)
The child, a small thing with weary eyes that are almost aware of its future, a life without a father and a mother doomed to the criticism of society.
With seven children and another on the way, the boy’s head settles naturally into the crook of his arm, while strong hands support his tiny body. She smiles then, a genuine smile this time, and her eyes aren’t quite so dark anymore.
“Have you decided on a name?”
“Tommy, well, Thomas -- after my father ( ... )
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This was amazing! Ugh, I love it. ♥
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ugh, thank you so much for writing this, it's so good, and the imagery! ugh, so good. ♥
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