Disclaimer: *glares*
A/N: So, this little thing jumped into my head the other day and I though I better write it down, because, when it comes to me, later generally translates to never. It's based on "China" by Tori Amos. The idea was to recreate the atmosphere from that song, which, by the way, is quite awesome. Hope you'll like it. :)
Distance
Sometimes I think you want me to touch you
How can I when you build the great wall around you
In your eyes I saw a future together
You just look away in the distance
~Tori Amos: "China"~
The roughness of the paper awakens your sensory receptors as your finger traces the newly-written lines, accidentally smudging the neatly-written letters. The ink stains your fingertip. There is a sudden chill in the air and you shiver involuntarily. Looking up from the softly-illuminated folder, you search for your lab coat. It is draped over one of the conference table chairs.
You stay where you are, behind the small table haphazardly positioned in the far-away corner of the conference room, and rub your palms against your thighs, hoping to generate enough heat to keep you going long enough to finish the charting.
And then you sense he has entered the room, keeping his distance at the doorway to his office. You focus on the file in front of you, desperately trying not to give yourself away. He's watching you. For a good several minutes the two of you are at a standstill until he makes his presence known by walking towards you with measured steps. You don't look up. Not even when his shadow darkens the white paper and edges across your hands.
"Burning the midnight oil again?"
"I'm nearly done."
He leans in over the folder to get a better look, so close you can almost feel his warmth caressing you. His hand is barely an inch from yours and you can't help but stare at it – how it looks unfamiliar, yet somehow, oddly familiar. For you, the minute distance is not an absence of touch, but a presence of a possibility. You can feel it urging you, luring you closer, and it takes every ounce of your will power to resist the gravitational pull. His eyes follow your gaze and then focus on your face. You have to look up.
The moment stretches beyond all reason as you struggle to breathe. He's too close. Too close.
And then he's towering over you again, all that remains of your would be contact a warm handprint that slowly evaporates into thin air. You feel relieved because the pull lost some of its force, but at the same time, you know it will never completely disappear.
He gives you a curt nod before he collects his possessions and heads home. You remain sitting there, your mind still caught up in the moment. As for his presence? It still lingers in the room, permeating the air and reminding you that he is no longer there.
A/N: This distance/proximity (physical and emotional) dynamics of their relationship always fascinated me. It's something that keeps you on your toes and wanting more. Too bad the writers didn't realise this.