A/N: My brain wouldn't let me do plot, but it came up with this. I don't quite know what this is. Let's just call it a micro fic without plot or merit. I wrote this in like twenty minutes, so… comments are very welcome!
Niles has always prided himself on being an intelligent man. He knows the right wine to go with fancy food. Or as he thinks of it: food. He read every piece of great literature and unlike some people who only pretended to, he actually understood it. And he knows all the great songs in the world. Those written by people who understood emotions like pain – and love. So he knows a lot; he is well spoken. But there is this moment in his everyday life that just leaves him clueless. Beautifully speechless. The reason is she; the reason is Daphne.
The first time he sees her, he trips over his own feet. Luckily, he is used to that. But he trips over his words, too. Words who have always been his friends. Even if no one else was there for him, words never abandoned him. They do now. They do when he sees Daphne. There is so much he wants to tell her the moment he first sees her. You're beautiful, he thinks but doesn't say. I love you, he thinks, too, but he doesn't even admit that to himself. Yet. After all, he is a married man. In the end, he babbles like any random man on the street. A man who is undeserving of her.
As he gets to know her, the feelings become stronger. Every time he sees her, he falls a little deeper. Further into love with the woman who will never know, because the words he needs to say to her won't come when she's there. In the quiet of his own home, a place he no longer cares for, he can say the words. He tells her 'You're beautiful'. He tells her 'I love you'. All those simple words that are made of simple letters, syllables. He can say them, but never to her. There is always something holding him back.
When he sees her on a rainy day (and they live in Seattle after all), she makes it all better. Her smile lights up a room, but most importantly it lights up his heart. Sometimes the words are right there on his tongue and then her beautiful, almost innocent eyes will find his and they disappear into thin air. He smiles stupidly, he babbles aimlessly. This is what you do to me, he sometimes thinks, but never bitterly. I want to tell you how beautiful you are, he silently screams at her when she once again thinks she is not good enough for the men out there. How much he wants to tell her that she's too good! You're a goddess, he thinks (and once, just once, tells her so). You're an angel, he yells at his mind, but it never collaborates. And she never knows.
In the end, he makes peace with it. He knows he won't ever tell her how beautiful she is. She will never understand how much he loves her, because all those years he's just been vague. Just been a little too shy. His words just a little too unclear. When he sees her and the light catches her hair first and then her eyes, his heart always skips a beat. Sometimes he thinks it only beats for her. If he could tell her all these things, what would she say? Would she laugh if he told her how beautiful she was? There's no use dwelling on it, because he can never find the right words. All his feelings are packed in some kind of cliché. Every man can tell her she's beautiful. Any man could tell her 'I love you' (and maybe even mean it; maybe even feel a fraction of what he feels for her).
When her eyes finally soften upon falling on his, because she feels the same way he does (who would have thought, he thinks; who would have had the words for such a divine incident), he finally understands why words kept failing him. He still knows them all; the fancy ones he likes to use and the derogative ones that make his ears hurt. They are still there and he finally gets to use them. 'You're beautiful', he tells her with a smile. Finally, the words fit. 'I love you', he whispers whenever he can. She hears them and he understands. Before – when the words failed him, they weren't ready. He wasn't ready to voice them, but most importantly she wasn't ready to hear them.
Now, Niles still knows everything about the fancy life. Or just life. And he has someone to share his thoughts with. Not his brother, who already knows all of this himself. Not his father, who loves him enough to sometimes pretend to care. And not even Daphne, who tries to understand this side of him, but who can only love and support him. But he tells his son everything he knows. He teaches him all the words and tells him before David can use them himself that his time will come. One day he will have all the words. One day he will know everything, too.
END