Comforting Warmth
© 2002
Rating: PG
Spoilers: a little up through "The Box, Part 1"
Pairing: some V/S
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.
-Vaughn's POV-
"It was all a lie," she says, her eyes lowered to the floor.
The expression on her face makes me want to reach out and envelop her in my arms, to soothe away her fears and frustrations. But I don't. Instead, I stand there with my hands in my pockets, a frightened and somewhat uncomfortable look on my face.
Sometimes I really wonder how she can mess me up so much.
Because all I feel now is this insane urge to protect and comfort her. Am I crazy? Maybe so. But whenever she gets that look on her face, the one that basically screams vulnerability, I lose all rational reason. Instead, my brain becomes this giant blob of mush threatening to spill over. Is that so wrong?
And now she's looking at me. The first time since she walked in here with her shoulders slumped and a resigned look on her face. I know the expression I'm wearing is all wrong, that the compassion I was hoping for is now a muddled combination of dread and helplessness. My features just don't seem to be working today. Surprise.
"Vaughn," she says, her voice slightly hoarse from the crying she no doubt has been doing.
Before I can reply, she jumps up from her seat on a crate and stands to face me. I stand paralyzed.
"Vaughn," she says my name softly, and I revel in the way the word just seems to roll off her tongue, the way her teeth and lips move to form that perfect shape. "I'm so sorry."
And then I realize why she hasn't been looking at me.
"No," I say, "you had no way of knowing."
She starts to say something, but translucent tears start slipping down her beautiful face. Her porcelain skin crinkles and her expression crumbles. I know that words mean nothing to her now. Words can shatter a fantasy in an instant. She has no more use for them; all her fantasies are gone. I offer her comfort the only way I know how. I reach out for her and take her in my arms. My right hand fits itself gently to the back of her head, and I let her sob out her pain on my shoulder. And I know my jacket is ruined the moment her salty tears seep through the fabric. But I don't care. All I care about, all I am aware of, is this amazing woman in my arms.
Please give me some feedback. I know this wasn't exactly how the conversation went.
-V
© 2002
Rating: PG
Spoilers: a little up through "The Box, Part 1"
Pairing: some V/S
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.
-Vaughn's POV-
"It was all a lie," she says, her eyes lowered to the floor.
The expression on her face makes me want to reach out and envelop her in my arms, to soothe away her fears and frustrations. But I don't. Instead, I stand there with my hands in my pockets, a frightened and somewhat uncomfortable look on my face.
Sometimes I really wonder how she can mess me up so much.
Because all I feel now is this insane urge to protect and comfort her. Am I crazy? Maybe so. But whenever she gets that look on her face, the one that basically screams vulnerability, I lose all rational reason. Instead, my brain becomes this giant blob of mush threatening to spill over. Is that so wrong?
And now she's looking at me. The first time since she walked in here with her shoulders slumped and a resigned look on her face. I know the expression I'm wearing is all wrong, that the compassion I was hoping for is now a muddled combination of dread and helplessness. My features just don't seem to be working today. Surprise.
"Vaughn," she says, her voice slightly hoarse from the crying she no doubt has been doing.
Before I can reply, she jumps up from her seat on a crate and stands to face me. I stand paralyzed.
"Vaughn," she says my name softly, and I revel in the way the word just seems to roll off her tongue, the way her teeth and lips move to form that perfect shape. "I'm so sorry."
And then I realize why she hasn't been looking at me.
"No," I say, "you had no way of knowing."
She starts to say something, but translucent tears start slipping down her beautiful face. Her porcelain skin crinkles and her expression crumbles. I know that words mean nothing to her now. Words can shatter a fantasy in an instant. She has no more use for them; all her fantasies are gone. I offer her comfort the only way I know how. I reach out for her and take her in my arms. My right hand fits itself gently to the back of her head, and I let her sob out her pain on my shoulder. And I know my jacket is ruined the moment her salty tears seep through the fabric. But I don't care. All I care about, all I am aware of, is this amazing woman in my arms.
Please give me some feedback. I know this wasn't exactly how the conversation went.
-V