A/N: This is just a little post-ep for episode 1x05 ('In Which Addison Finds a Showerhead'). The style is a bit different from what I usually write, but I like this nonetheless. Read and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Private Practice. But what I would do to be Shonda Rhimes...
Her tears soak through his shirt and onto his skin, but he's busy thinking about those days when they were so much younger and she would come over in the middle of the night with take out whenever she couldn't sleep. He's thinking about the evenings she'd fall asleep with her head on his thigh in a dimly lit room while the credits to a terribly mockable movie roll across the tv screen. He's thinking about the men before Allan, the bottles of wine and the cold wind on the beach in the early hours of the morning and God how bright the stars were back then.
She sniffs a little and he pulls her in closer, wondering when this became so easy. Wondering when those feelings started to bubble up and when he put them on the back burner to let them simmer for a while.
A long, long while, it turned out, but he hadn't known that then.
(If only he could turn back time…)
And when she mumbles something into his shirt, he replies with a soothing, "I know, Vi. I know," because he's known her so long that he hears it hurts more every time, Cooper where everyone else hears incoherency.
He remembers the first time they did this, this post-Allan craziness that has since become routine. He remembers that she was wearing this red cocktail dress (it's now hanging in the back of her closet, unused) and that she was holding her shoes and that her mascara was running and that she had never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment.
(Maybe that was when he realized, he thinks, but he supposes he'll never know for sure.)
He makes out he was my last chance in a particularly loud sob, and he himself wants to cry a little bit. "You've got plenty of chances left, trust me. Allan doesn't know what he's missing."
"You're too good to me." These sound more like actual words, and that means the crying has begun to die down. "I don't deserve this."
"You deserve morethan this." In all honesty, he can't believe the sentence even came out of his mouth, and wishes she'd go back to crying if it would make her stop looking at him in a way that he can't read.
(And he can always tell what she's thinking.)
All of a sudden she's kissing him, and his mind is screaming that this isn't what he'd ever planned, not at all, but he knows she needs this and lets himself kiss her back for a moment before gently taking her arms and pushing her away.
"Not like this, Vi. It can't happen like this."
Her eyes are still watery and there are tears on her cheeks and he thinks that no, this is the most beautiful she's ever been.
"I know."
"I'm not saying that I don't… I mean, I've been waiting a long time for… and Allan just…" He can't put a full sentence together and right now he hates himself for sounding so much like a little boy while he's trying to be a man.
She puts her hand on top of his, and in that moment it's her turn to comfort him.
(He finds he doesn't really mind the role reversal.)
"It's okay, Cooper. I really do understand."
She's still biting her lip and looking embarrassed so he pulls her back into a hug without a word.
"I can stay, though, right?"
Her voice is so soft and she feels so fragile and her breath is so warm against his skin that he can't say anything but "Of course."
She whispers good so quietly that he probably isn't supposed to hear it, but he does anyway.
And later that evening, when they're both a little saner, they order take out and sift through his stash of terrible movies and she opens a bottle of wine. When she falls asleep against his shoulder, he lies down across the couch with her resting partially on top of him and he thinks about how nice it would be if this were normal.
(He looks out the window as he drifts off and decides that maybe the stars never got any less bright after all.)
End