honestly I wrote this at like midnight many months ago it's pretty much crap but I kinda like it. It 's mega short. I might make it a multi chapter fic?. scully/mulder thingy. during or after iwtb. full of angst. yay!
enjoy, dear fellow x-philes! :) review please if you've got the time.
The clock always seemed loudest when she was alone. Well, not alone per se, she wasn't alone physically, Mulder was down stairs in his office. Sitting in his chair while a desk lamp lighting up scraps of paper and newspaper clippings.
But he wasn't here. It seemed he never really was 'here'. She felt like she was living with a ghost. She felt like she never saw him; after work, breifly before he'd head back to his solitude of his office; dinner, which was about the only time they talked, and that talk was mainly comprised of unemotional small talk; and sometimes , if she was awake, she'd see him climb into the bed besides her- although many nights, he didn't even come to bed. And even on those nights he did come to bed, though he would be only an inch or two away, he felt miles away. She wondered if he'd come to bed tonight. She'd given trying to persuade him to come to bed, it never got anywhere and usually someone ended up upset.
He was her best friend, her partner , her lover and yet she couldn't talk to him. She can't remember the last time she really , really talked to him.
This wasn't what she had pictured her domestic life with a partner being, although to be fair, for a long time she never considered having a domestic life.
She had admittedly thought before of leaving him, but she couldn't. The past kept them too tied together and even in her grief and frustration with him she still loved him so.
He had changed so much, and she missed the Mulder she had known for so long.
As the clock chimed at the next hour, she wondered if he'd come to bed.