Between their first and the second time, she cuts her hair, which now reaches just below her chin. He does this thing, his thing, where he smiles and rolls his eyes, decides not to let the words mid-life crisis leave his mouth, because he's clever like that sometimes. He kisses her bare neck instead, fingers trailing lightly over her arms. Crying, basically. She cut her hair to her chin. She cut her hair and he doesn't dare to speak out loud because this whole situation is just too damn ugly and ordinary and maybe a litltle depressing because of how convenient it makes him (and besides, what would be the point in stating the obvious). Oh, they are so gloriously average it hurts. And I love it so much, Doris. How did you know exactly what I love about them. They are never epic. They are forever lost and forever too late. I love it so much.
They never talk about their children or friends or work. It sounds horrible, when he thinks about it. But then again, that never was the point of this. BUT YES YES DORIS YES YES YES They can never work. That isn't their point. (And I die, okay. I die.)
He's standing more than 30 feet away from her. He knows, because he makes sure he does. Because if he's more than 30 feet away from her, maybe he won't take in her scent and maybe he won't mind Ron's hand around her waist, and maybe nothing happens, nothing at all. FOREVER SCREAMING THIS IS WHAT IS ALL BOILS DOWN TO EVERYTHING IS PERFECT I AM SORRY BUT WHAT IS THIS FIC
LIKE THIS IS SO EPICALLY WHAT I WANTED JUST YOU ARE AMAZING
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU
AND OMFG I CANNOT HANDLE THAT TAG. I JUST CANNOT. YOU HAVE A TAG ABOUT ME. WHAT WHAT WHAT. HOW ARE YOU REAL IN MY LIFE. OH DORIS, I COULDN'T LEAVE YOU IF I TRIED.
I WILL CLING TO YOUR LEG EVEN AFTER YOU'RE LONG OVER LITTLE OLD ME. YOU'LL SEE.
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2012-12-09 12:48 am (UTC)He does this thing, his thing, where he smiles and rolls his eyes, decides not to let the words mid-life crisis leave his mouth, because he's clever like that sometimes.
He kisses her bare neck instead, fingers trailing lightly over her arms.
Crying, basically. She cut her hair to her chin. She cut her hair and he doesn't dare to speak out loud because this whole situation is just too damn ugly and ordinary and maybe a litltle depressing because of how convenient it makes him (and besides, what would be the point in stating the obvious). Oh, they are so gloriously average it hurts. And I love it so much, Doris. How did you know exactly what I love about them. They are never epic. They are forever lost and forever too late. I love it so much.
They never talk about their children or friends or work.
It sounds horrible, when he thinks about it. But then again, that never was the point of this.
BUT YES YES DORIS YES YES YES
They can never work. That isn't their point. (And I die, okay. I die.)
He's standing more than 30 feet away from her. He knows, because he makes sure he does. Because if he's more than 30 feet away from her, maybe he won't take in her scent and maybe he won't mind Ron's hand around her waist, and maybe nothing happens, nothing at all.
FOREVER SCREAMING
THIS IS WHAT IS ALL BOILS DOWN TO
EVERYTHING IS PERFECT
I AM SORRY BUT WHAT IS THIS FIC
LIKE THIS IS SO EPICALLY WHAT I WANTED
JUST
YOU ARE AMAZING
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU
AND
I LOVE YOU
AND OMFG I CANNOT HANDLE THAT TAG. I JUST CANNOT. YOU HAVE A TAG ABOUT ME. WHAT WHAT WHAT. HOW ARE YOU REAL IN MY LIFE. OH DORIS, I COULDN'T LEAVE YOU IF I TRIED.
I WILL CLING TO YOUR LEG EVEN AFTER YOU'RE LONG OVER LITTLE OLD ME. YOU'LL SEE.
♥