CLOSE TO YOU
Chapter 1
She turned on her side, landing her face and upper body on something sturdy, that yet felt so soft and comfortable. An unconscious, genuine smile broadened on her thin lips as she instinctively curled and cuddled against the inviting warmness emanating from it, and it grew even more when she felt that beautiful sensation embracing and engulfing her wholly: she felt at peace. She felt safe. She felt…happy.
She inhaled deeply, taking in a spicy hint of black pepper and vanilla, her senses indulging into that beautiful bubble of numbness she was floating in, wishing whatever that was, she would have never had to part from it.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
Her long lashes fluttered elegantly as her eyes slowly started to open: raising her gaze, the most beautiful, charming irises she had ever seen met her own, perfusing her entire body with all the love the man at her side was holding for her. Hadn't her been Lynette, her eyes would have already brimmed with tears, overwhelmed by such sentiment: she couldn't remember the last time that look was bestowed upon her. She couldn't remember the last time she sensed that feeling of fulfillment, that sensation of…completeness.
And it felt good. And so damn right.
"So, did you sleep well?" he asked caringly, caressing her right cheek with the back of his fingers.
"Wonderfully" she smiled, inching forward to kiss his naked thorax. "Hmmm" she moaned. "You taste good."
"Hey-hey! What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"What do you think I am?"
"Hmm...I'd say you are trying to seduce me, or better yet, to use my body just for personal pleasure" he replied with a fake disapproving tone.
"And you want me to stop?" she asked provokingly, licking and biting one of his pecks.
"Hell no!" he said, quickly scooping her body below his own. "You know" he kept on after sampling her lips several, quick times, "you taste good as well." She smiled, and so did he. "Although" his eyes glinted "…you could most certainly use a mint, you know?"
"Frank!"
"Hahahahahah-aw, come on. Just kidding!"
"Hmph, screw you."
"As you wish, my mistress!" he complied, lunging forward to her.
"Not literally you idiot!" she chuckled among his kisses all over her neck, her lithe form quivering against his toned body.
"Huh, fine then" he backed off nonchalantly, pretending to be offended. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking distractedly toward the nightstand. She heard him emitting a soft snort, and then, all of a sudden, he started fumbling for something on the ground.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to find my clothes."
"What? Why?"
"It's 10.30, Lynette" he said after fetching his discarded trousers from the ground, and he couldn't help the disappointment his voice betrayed.
She looked at him uncertainly.
He sat back on the side of the bed, smiling patiently. "10.30 of Saturday morning. This Saturday." He turned some more toward her, caressing her blond curls as he watched realization washing over her. "Oh, of course! How could I forget? Gee, I can't believe it!" she exclaimed, low-spiritedly leaning her head on his shoulder. He reached out an arm to squeeze her own.
"So this means…"
"This means I have half an hour to cook you an healthy breakfast, cuddle you some more, and leave before your ex comes back with the kids."
She stiffened for a moment at the sound of that word. Ex.
And she couldn't understand why: that wasn't the first time he referred to Tom with said appellative, and given the two of them had actually never met, it was only logical he wasn't accustomed to call him by name.
But there was something...something she wasn't exactly able to process, something she could not really describe. An uneasy feeling right in the pit of her stomach that, every time she heard that word, for a reason beyond her ken, would not go away.
"Lynette, you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course I am" she replied, trying her best to sound reassuring. That was not the time for such thoughts, she reasoned, and besides, she had a much more pressing matter at hand right now: something that she just couldn't ignore. Not that time. Not anymore.
"I was just thinking…" she lowered her head, dejectedly, then she looked back up to him. "It's sad. It always has to end up like this…"
She regretted those words the moment they escaped her mouth.
If things were the way they were, she had to blame only herself: she had been the one who insisted for her family -and yes, one way or another, that included Tom- not to know about their relationship yet. Because, even though her kids seemed to have grown accustomed to the idea of daddy's new girlfriend not long after their separation, she still believed introducing Frank too soon could unsettle them more than necessary. So, she waited.
And him, being the lovely, considerate and understanding gentlemen he was, had accepted to give her the space she needed, without so much of the bat of an eye.
It had been four months since then.
And still, he had to sneak out -almost as a thief, a wrongdoer- every time her kids got home.
Because she was scared. What of, she still had to figure out.
"It is sad" he wanted to answer, but he knew he would have never said such thing. Not only it would have been unfair, but also unforgivably cruel to her. He knew things were complicated, and the last thing he wanted was to force her into something she was not ready for: she had her own way and her own time to process things out.
She was a strong, determined woman who could deal with her problems relying on no one but herself, and he respected, he admired, he loved her for that.
Though, in spite of himself, he couldn't help -and he couldn't hide, at times- that feeling of sadness, of rejection, that despicable but desperate need for more he had so wilfully tried to conceal within himself. Feelings that grew stronger and stronger every time he collided against the barrier she had so meticulously built around herself –around her heart-, a limit he was not allowed to cross. Not yet.
And he was starting to wonder if he would have ever had.
Sure, they spent most of their free time together, and when they weren't, one would usually call the other to know how his or her day was, or even just for a lazy chitchat because I've missed the sound of your voice. Sure, they knew plenty of their respective lives, and it wasn't rare they opened up to each other seeking for advice, or just for someone who would listen to their troubles and be sympathetic. And the more time they spent together, the more they grew to understand, respect and appreciate their characters. They could be having the perfect relationship: but she was refraining herself. Some way, she was still hiding. And he knew her well enough to sense she had never been completely honest, with him: he could see that whenever he looked into those beautiful, hurtful eyes of hers. She had never, ever let herself exposed, not even during their most intimate, closest time. Not even when he did.
Almost as if, somehow, she was ashamed of their relationship. Or better yet, almost as if she considered him something temporary.
Would he have ever been enough? Would he have ever been able to break, or even just to weaken, that bond that -he felt, and he knew- ineluctably linked her with Tom? Could she have ever been able to love him the way she (had?) loved him?
He felt lost. He felt consumed. And now, he knew that was the time he had to go…before those thoughts ate him alive.
"It's okay" he said, finally, a bittersweet smile crossing his features. "But I've gotta go now, it's late. I'll call you later."
He got up, quicker than he would usually do, and lightly pecked her forehead.
She looked up to him, who was now already facing backwards and ready to leave.
The warm, enticing warmness that cuddled her just until minutes before, had now completely vanished, making her body shiver uneasily under the sudden, selfless cold that replaced it.
Her eyes looked ever so desperate and yearning while watching him disappearing from her sight slowly but surely, one step after another.
He was leaving. In more ways she could ever imagine.
"No!"
He stopped dead in his tracks, his figure almost completely disappeared after the doorway. Turning around, he took a cautious step backwards, not sure if his ears had just been playing sadistic tricks on him.
"Lynette, did you jus…" he trailed off. She was kneeled on the edge of the bed, her golden locks messily -funnily- combed over her head as her wrinkled white shirt merely covered her form. Her hands were joined up on her chest, and her eyes glinted with something he had just once before seen on her face: she was…begging. She was crying. Could…could it really be? Was she really…
"I-" she took a ragged breath, her mouth agape and trembling, as if she was unsure what to say. His heart skipped a beat. "I jus-"
"Lyneeeette! It's us! Listen, Paige burped on my car seat, so…I…if you don't mind I kind of need your help! And, oh, I promised the kids we're gonna have Chinese today, do you wanna join us?"
He mentally cursed probably no less than a million times the man who was now entering the first floor, knowing whatever she was going to say, there wasn't a chance he would have never known.
"Damn it!" He quickly glanced over the window, discarding right there and then the idea of getting out through it. "Okay, I can still use the back door, but you need to get down and distract them. We've gotta hurry!"
"No" she repeated more evenly.
"What?"
"Frank" she climbed down from the bed, walking over to him till they were just a few inches apart. She placed her hands over his chest, then, she grabbed the sides of his jacket: "I don't want you to go."
He looked down to her, puzzled. "Lynette…"
He grabbed her hands within his owns. "You don't have to do it just to please me. I know you don't feel ready-"
"Yes I do!" she said rasing her voice, stomping down a feet in frustration. "Don't you get it? I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for me! I want to wake up next to you every day, not just once in a while. I want to cuddle with you and watch a movie on the couch without worrying what time it is. I want my kids to know you, and I want you to be part of their lives just as much you are in mine!" She stopped for a moment, looking deep into his clear eyes. "I want you beside me, Frank. I need you beside me."
"Lynette, will you answer me? I'm coming up!"
They kept there for a few moments just staring at one another, lost within themselves. He bent down, sinking and losing his head into the soft, fragrant cascade of her hair, inhaling deeply its exquisite fragrance of orchid and coconut.
"Stay" she whispered, hiding her head in the crook of his neck, huddling her body against his own.
They could hear hurried, bouncing steps on the staircase approaching more and more.
He hugged her, tightly, knowing their time was running out.
"I will."
The door opened.
Author's Note: I have been inspired to write this after watching episode 13 "Is this what you call love?". I had actually just planned a one-shot dealing with the sweet waking up of Lynette and Frank months after they got together, but it turned out a bit deeper and complicated.
Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love Tom, and he and Lynette are my favourite DH couple. But I find Frank's character interesting, so I wanted somehow to give him a chance. Besides, I didn't really see anything written about him yet!
If you'd like to write a tiny little review on this (ppppppplease? :D), I'd be glad!
Hmm, I need to finish my TomxLynette story Leaving, I know! If you're interested, take a look ^_-
~Until next time!