Hello Silent Witness army. I thought I would write another Harry/Nikki fic as the BBC are thoughtlessly refusing to show ATTFIL :( *cries*
Enjoy :)
Sometimes when he's near, you forget how to breathe. The life-giving inhalation is nestled deep down inside your throat, after being refused release from your transfixed brain. It isn't your fault you convince yourself, for love is unexpected, rare and inexplicable… to you. You, as an exceptional scientist, crave knowledge of a cause. Everything can be justified, everything can be explained. Except, perhaps, the very reason you accepted his offer of dinner in the first place.
As you stare anxiously at the flickering candles situated on the table before you, you decide that something must be done. You have avoided this exact situation for a long time, with good reason. However, you have prudently planned the potential scenarios and consequences in your masterfully adept mind for years. For, you deliberate, love is like a lighted candle. Grasp the flame and it diminishes quickly, slipping through your adoration deprived fingers. But, sit back, and you will appreciate the startling light and warmth, though the lack of fiery passion destroys your tendency to succumb to intrigue. So, this is the moment where you have to take a chance, for both your sakes.
Sometimes when she's near, you forget how to breathe. You adore everything about the woman sitting in your living room, in your house, which is why today must be absolutely perfect. You had convinced her that this would be innocent, "just as friends," you said, hoping that, she would believe the lie, and, you ponder, did you imagine that slight hint of disappointment inside her beautiful, sparkling eyes? You hope not. For love is like the dispersing wine you grasp apprehensively in your hands. While a typical fling might be hot and passionate at first, it always seems to cool down. But true love, which you and Nikki have, should age like wine, growing in subtle intensity. Fond memories accumulate, and not just the romantic, tender moments, but the exciting, forbidden ones too. You should be the couple who seems drunk, like you are now, on each other, the married couple who still can't keep their hands off one another. Only inside your head, you sigh. You have an inclination to obscure your feelings behind a joke, or two. You may have even told her that you love her once, but laughed it off because the tension became too much. You live for those precious seconds of truth. You exhale noisily, a sense of trepidation drifting into your soul, and you furrow your brow, coughing at the distinct odour that had crept through the room.
You can hear him swearing loudly from the kitchen as the fire alarm begins to protest the unnatural amount of smoke erupting from the oven. You endeavour to suppress a small giggle, though you are unsuccessful as Harry's dishevelled form emerges from the chaos, breaking your self-control. You watch as his anger softens and he mutters something about the chicken being too tender for his liking. To this, you raise your eyebrows as you watch him ineffectively try to conceal the evident smoke billowing freely from the open door. He coughs nervously, blushing, and you laugh at his futile attempt to lie. Finally, he smiles.
"Chinese?" he whispers.
"Chinese," you reply.
Short, but I hope you like it. Please R&R, cos I really like reading them. I also want to know if I should continue this? Thoughts, please? :)