Ok, so this is my first attempt at a Bones story, so be kind :p I don't mind kind constructive criticism though.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything blah blah blah Fox does, you know the drill, and if I did I'd be rich.
Reviews much appreciated!
He could walk into a room, and she would glow, her eyes would glisten, and she would feel calm. He could walk up behind her and feel that little jolt of electricity because she'd know he was there. She could hug him and cry and not feel scared of him being too close. She cherished his presence because it instilled within her the sense of security. She could know what he was thinking without having to ask. She could say something stupid and it wouldn't matter to her what he thought. She could always see understanding, pride in the dark brown orbs that rested in his eye sockets.
She could do anything, and not feel vulnerable, because it was him.
His heart could race when he saw her. His heart could melt when she smiled because it touched her eyes and made her glow. He could give her space and time, and yet she could still seek him out. She could make him feel at ease when he was angry and her eyes were still soft despite the temper and vehement that filled his voice, He could feel strong when he saw her face, hard, looks of stone, confident, leaving absolutely no room for doubt. And he would believe her.
He would do anything with her because he trusted her. He believed she could do anything. He could take down the facades, the walls, the professionalism that broke office friendships and emotional relationships. She made wearing his heart on his sleeve easy.
Boothe could look at her face and see words, things there that no one else could see.
He could look at the glowing skin on her cheek and want to run his hand along it, just to see if her skin was as soft as it looked.
Little things like that could take his breath away.
She could irritate him in a way no one else could. He could not see it himself, the anger at being pushed out, anger at her stubbornness.
But he loved every fiber of her, especially the fibers that were fused with his.
In a place were so many people thought, assumed they knew her, he knew more than she'd ever said in words.
Sometimes he felt like the only thing that got him out of bed to put on a pair of striped socks and go to work was her. The sense of entitlement and endearment that it was his job to keep her safe. She was like water, he could get dehydrated if he didn't see her enough, but seeing too much, letting too much break to the surface was dangerous. It could push her away, but he needed her close.
He found himself fascinated when he watched her. When she was pouring everything she knew out to the bones on the table in front of her. She put her whole self into it, and that was what he loved. . . to the highest degree.
The pull, the drive, and the effect she could induce on him with one look. The thoughts and emotions conveyed through looks alone was enough for whole conversations between other people.
He loved how her voice sometimes sent shivers up his spine. How he shifted his positions to match hers, to match her moods, her tones of voice, without ever consciously realizing it until he was close enough to feel warmth emanating from her.
The knowledge of her, the knowledge of her being a breathing, tangible thought that he could reach out and touch filled him with happiness that never seemed to go away.
He could not live with out her. She was an essential part of who he was. A part of him he wouldn't be complete without. She was a part of his structure, a part of his bone. A part of what drove his being. There was a magnitude of the highest degree that held his gaze on her just so he could see her eyes, and how happy they were sometimes.
A magnitude that drew him to her. The woman that was so brave and fierce and closed off to everyone else in the world except for him. It gave him a feeling like he had her all to himself. The things you love you oft-times don't show off to the world, but keep close to your heart under lock and key, like sunshine on a rainy day. Your secret defense.
And that was emotion of the highest degree. Love was emotion of the highest degree.
He loved her, Bones, to the highest degree.
She was the one he kept all to himself. The one that was kept closer to his heart than anyone had ever been.
Emotion of the highest degree.