Hey Did You Know
Title: Hey Did You Know
Fandom: Twilight RPF
Pairing: Taylor Lautner/Kristen Stewart
Rating: PG
Word Count: 579
Summary: They have dolls. Of her. Well, of Bella Swan, but they look sort of like Kristen if you squint.
Author's Notes: D;ASKFJSD YOU GUYS I'M SORRY. I SAW THIS AND I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. Also I love the idea of teenaged boys having crushes. I don't even know, okay? This isn't going to become a habit, or anything, I swear. Blah blah blah, taycob_kstew.
Hey Did You Know
They have dolls. Of her. Well, of Bella Swan, but they look sort of like Kristen if you squint. He feels weird buying one, like he’s some kind of creeper, or something, but it’s not like he’s going to keep it by his bedside or sleep with it on his pillow. Hug it close to his chest like it’s the Real Thing.
The Real Thing happens to be in Italy right now, while he’s... here. Is this home? He’s not exactly sure, because things have been changing and life has been picking up the pace and suddenly holy crap he’s famous. Don’t get him wrong; he likes the fame. He stops and takes pictures with everyone who wants one, has signed thousands of things, from photographs to the back of someone’s hand. This is what he’s always wanted.
They’ve got the eyes wrong. On the doll, that is. Yeah, it’s just a doll, it’s just not Kristen, but the eyes look almost yellow, like Bella’s already a vampire. Like she never even had a chance; she was just made that way.
Nobody ever seems to give Jacob Black much of a chance, either.
Taylor frowns, lying flat on his stomach with his hands under his chin. He stares at the doll a little; this is one of those rare, restful moments when absolutely nothing is going on, and it feels like it’s from another lifetime. A year ago, he’d be going out to lunch with Edi and Rob and maybe Nikki--and Kristen. Usually Kristen.
His frown deepens, if that’s possible. Yeah, he knows it’s stupid. Yeah, he’s only seventeen. Yeah, she’s just enough older than him. Yeah, he likes her just enough (meaning: too much) that the fact that she’s probably making out with Rob right now (on set or off?) seems sickening and unfair.
Being away from her makes him act and feel all mopey, like an old dog lying on the floor not knowing what to do with itself.
His dad comments on that once, walking in to find him staring up at the ceiling. He asks him what he’s doing. Like he knows that. Taylor stares at his dad a moment and shrugs.
It kind of sucks that liking a girl can basically change your whole personality. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s supposed to be the happy one. At least, he’d thought so.
Not that he isn’t happy. He’s not miserable, or anything, because he’s definitely not that guy. There’s genuine meaning behind all his smiles, and he stays away from hollow words. Everybody jokes that he’s still just new at this; he’ll be corrupted soon enough.
He’d like to keep himself like this, though, thanks. Maybe minus the crush-on-Kristen thing.
Well.
Okay, no.
He covers up the doll-Bella-Kristen’s eyes with a tissue over its head--they just get creepier the more he looks at them--and picks up his phone. He rolls over onto his back, holding the thing above him. Maybe he’ll call her, ask her if she knows she’s been immortalized in plastic. She’ll probably laugh, and he will too, because it’ll be funnier once she knows about it. He likes laughing with her, making her laugh; she’s so serious all the time, it’s like...
Wait.
Two missed calls, one text message.
He hadn’t even heard it ringing, and now he feels a little dumb.
They’re all from Kristen.
back in la, she says. whats up?
THE END
Fandom: Twilight RPF
Pairing: Taylor Lautner/Kristen Stewart
Rating: PG
Word Count: 579
Summary: They have dolls. Of her. Well, of Bella Swan, but they look sort of like Kristen if you squint.
Author's Notes: D;ASKFJSD YOU GUYS I'M SORRY. I SAW THIS AND I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. Also I love the idea of teenaged boys having crushes. I don't even know, okay? This isn't going to become a habit, or anything, I swear. Blah blah blah, taycob_kstew.
Hey Did You Know
They have dolls. Of her. Well, of Bella Swan, but they look sort of like Kristen if you squint. He feels weird buying one, like he’s some kind of creeper, or something, but it’s not like he’s going to keep it by his bedside or sleep with it on his pillow. Hug it close to his chest like it’s the Real Thing.
The Real Thing happens to be in Italy right now, while he’s... here. Is this home? He’s not exactly sure, because things have been changing and life has been picking up the pace and suddenly holy crap he’s famous. Don’t get him wrong; he likes the fame. He stops and takes pictures with everyone who wants one, has signed thousands of things, from photographs to the back of someone’s hand. This is what he’s always wanted.
They’ve got the eyes wrong. On the doll, that is. Yeah, it’s just a doll, it’s just not Kristen, but the eyes look almost yellow, like Bella’s already a vampire. Like she never even had a chance; she was just made that way.
Nobody ever seems to give Jacob Black much of a chance, either.
Taylor frowns, lying flat on his stomach with his hands under his chin. He stares at the doll a little; this is one of those rare, restful moments when absolutely nothing is going on, and it feels like it’s from another lifetime. A year ago, he’d be going out to lunch with Edi and Rob and maybe Nikki--and Kristen. Usually Kristen.
His frown deepens, if that’s possible. Yeah, he knows it’s stupid. Yeah, he’s only seventeen. Yeah, she’s just enough older than him. Yeah, he likes her just enough (meaning: too much) that the fact that she’s probably making out with Rob right now (on set or off?) seems sickening and unfair.
Being away from her makes him act and feel all mopey, like an old dog lying on the floor not knowing what to do with itself.
His dad comments on that once, walking in to find him staring up at the ceiling. He asks him what he’s doing. Like he knows that. Taylor stares at his dad a moment and shrugs.
It kind of sucks that liking a girl can basically change your whole personality. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s supposed to be the happy one. At least, he’d thought so.
Not that he isn’t happy. He’s not miserable, or anything, because he’s definitely not that guy. There’s genuine meaning behind all his smiles, and he stays away from hollow words. Everybody jokes that he’s still just new at this; he’ll be corrupted soon enough.
He’d like to keep himself like this, though, thanks. Maybe minus the crush-on-Kristen thing.
Well.
Okay, no.
He covers up the doll-Bella-Kristen’s eyes with a tissue over its head--they just get creepier the more he looks at them--and picks up his phone. He rolls over onto his back, holding the thing above him. Maybe he’ll call her, ask her if she knows she’s been immortalized in plastic. She’ll probably laugh, and he will too, because it’ll be funnier once she knows about it. He likes laughing with her, making her laugh; she’s so serious all the time, it’s like...
Wait.
Two missed calls, one text message.
He hadn’t even heard it ringing, and now he feels a little dumb.
They’re all from Kristen.
back in la, she says. whats up?
THE END