Author's Note: I wrote this last October (can't believe it's been that long already...) and I didn't really like it or even consider posting it until now. I guess sometimes things have to grow on you a bit. ;) As always, I don't own HoW. If anyone still traverses this fandom, at least while we're having some downtime, please don't be shy and leave me some feedback!
Tell It By Heart
There's this thing that she does but I'm not too sure what to call it — a nervous habit, or maybe an action of restraint. Still maybe, could be involuntary; might not even realize she's doin' it. Whatever the case, it's a shame. Ain't nothin' so lovely should be covered, not even by her own hand.
Funnily enough, she stopped ever since Durant hitched his death ride to Chicago. Keepin' this place ain't no stroll along the river but it's easy to see that she's changed. Her eyes are stormier than ever and she's challenging just about anything or anyone that dares come her way. Even me. Not like she's never risen to the occasion but now she won't take no for an answer, period. And, if I do say so myself, at least she actually cares about what goes on 'round here. Durant couldn't give a shit either way about sabotaged whiskey or lettin' the Swede out the pig car. As much as the former don't concern me and the latter boils my Southern blood, I can't entirely blame her for having more heart in her head than head in her heart.
And I'll be damned if she's got heart. Thought I'd scared her off, closed her out for good but she just keeps comin' back. Then I went and opened my drunken trap last night (just like me to prod a sore spot we both share), and since my attention was on the bottle instead of her, she was able to hit me so hard that my jaw still aches. I don't know if I even slept proper 'cause of it. Never been a pain that I couldn't numb with alcohol but this is different. And although it's hers, the pain is just as real as everything I've been doin' a lousy job at tryin' to forget.
Sun's goin' down and there's no place I'd rather be than shut away in my sorry excuse for a house. I got my eye out the dusty window for nothin' and no one in particular when she comes along, in the opposite direction of Durant's car. Before I can wonder just where she's off to, she turns and looks at me dead square and all I think to do is draw the shade. Still drunk from yesterday, she shouldn't see me like this. I felt just brave enough to call her name earlier this afternoon... maybe tomorrow I'll have a chance to do so in a better frame of mind.
I sit in the dark for a while, lettin' my eyes adjust enough to find a match. Not a minute later the door's open and by the soft footsteps I know it's her. We stare for a long time, unsure, 'til it's her that makes the first move. She's goin' slow, closer, closer, then we're just a hand's span apart and my heart races with the sudden urge to turn tail and ride straight on outta here. I'm truly terrified, near shakin' in my boots. What a woman can do this sorta thing to a sort like me.
Then she sheds her coat and I see how small she really is underneath. Next to go is her hat, without which she shines brighter than the candle next to us. Her hair's jarred just a bit and those eyes of hers've gone clear as a stream and I see her hand reach up. I want to catch it before it goes to her mouth but no, she's found my cheek and I never imagined... Next thing I know she's layin' those beautiful lips on mine and I'm blinded by stars and sunlight.
Lily pulls back only to rest her fair hair on a lonely shoulder, which returns me to the moment. I wrap my arms 'round her tight and hold her close to me as I possibly can. The thought of runnin' was a fool's dream. And God, I must'a been out my damn mind.
I stop to look at her again and confusion briefly flashes across that angel face. You don't have to hide anything from me, darlin'. But you never really did anyhow. Her hands distracted, I use the opportunity to cover her mouth with my own.
