a/n: weird-ish writing style. I'm experimenting, so forgive me.
Pairing: Subtle hints of Beckett/Castle, rumor that we're now calling them Caskett? Castlett?
Reviews are greatly appreciated!
Thanks!
People
It's the people you who still loiter around your life even when you've told them, 'you're okay' a million times that really matter.
They can tell you're lying.
They can tell you're lying, so they stick around, even though they know it's probably annoying you. They ask again if you're alright every several minutes, and every time you say 'you're okay,' they look at you, in silence, their eyes reading: 'no you're not,' and the best you can do is to look away because you know they're right.
When they ask you again, you make sure to sound agitated when you say 'I'm fine.' Even so, they scoot a little closer, just to make sure you know that they're there.
They know you're not planning on saying anything.
They know you're not planning on saying anything, but they don't budge. The silence isn't uncomfortable. If it's their way of reaching out to you, it's working because the wall you've built around yourself is being knocked down by the second and you can feel the smallest small smiles creeping up onto your lips.
They're the people who you surprise with just one word. The ones who you know listen intently to the melodic sound of your voice breaking through the thick layer of silence.
They're the people who make you surprise yourself.
They're the people who make you surprise yourself when you finally admit that you're not being completely honest with them. They slightly smile, because they already knew this, but go ahead like they don't, and remain silently instead of pushing you to go on.
They're the people who drag you from the past back to the present. The ones who remind you that today is worth just as much as then, and that tomorrow is 'always a day away.'
When the tables are turned, you unknowingly return the favor of being there.
When the tables are turned, you unknowingly return the favor of being there. Your concern is genuine and you realize your there not even necessarily because you want to be there for them. You find yourself able to tell when their voice gives away to a lie, and you discover you're asking them every several minutes whether they're alright or not, even when they've told you they're perfectly fine.
They're the people who stand at a certain metaphorical distance from you – at all times, but every second of the silence they're inching closer to you.
They're kind of sweet.
They're kind of sweet, but not too much. When the sweetness becomes overwhelming, life becomes boring, and they become just another person blending in with the background.
Luckily; Richard Castle knew how to keep from being overly sweet, and tonight when he asked, 'you okay?' I nodded, and said, 'yeah, fine,' but he scooted a little closer anyway, and just sat there quietly, and asked again three minutes and thirty seconds later; 'you alright, Kate?'