Disclaimer: I own nothing and no character from the Mentalist. They are property of Bruno Heller and the producers of the series
A/N: Thank you to those of you who reviewed, sent a PM or just read! Hope you like this one too! This one is from a slightly different perspective.
Observant
He's always been totally weak when it came to Van Pelt. From the moment they met that had been it. He'd been a goner, whipped and wasted for anyone else.
The shock was just how decisive he had been during the relationship. Ultimately, he'd stepped up, he'd been willing to make the sacrifice for their happy ever after. That decision had taken courage but also made him vulnerable. Had left him heartbroken.
Now they weren't together anymore was he any different?
Well, his eyes didn't follow her every move anymore; well not his physical eyes anyway. The eyes of his heart, now they were a different story altogether. They instinctively just knew where she was, tracked every movement. If anyone looked closely enough, they would see it as the pulse point in his neck changed it's rhythm and tempo at her smallest move.
And he didn't look up when she spoke. No, but he couldn't quite stop his head turning into her voice slightly, even as she read her reports almost silently back to herself.
Then there was the way his breath hitched as he caught the smell of her perfume as she passed. But no-one would notice, it was so small and controlled.
It was much less controlled when she accidentally touched him. Passing over a file or handing him a cup of coffee. He would either wince as in pain or linger as if trying to relive a caress. Both brought that beautiful pain that only a strong man could endure. And he was strong. It was a surprise at just how strong he was being. It clearly wasn't easy, but he was winning.
Then there was his nervous system. This was what betrayed him the most. It would cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end as she leant over him, or send a shiver down his spine as they sat in close proximity in the car. His outward appearance would seem relaxed unless the tapping, chair swivelling and pen chewing were noticed. If things were really bad his hands would slowly clench and release.
I had once said to him after he'd missed an opportunity to ask Van Pelt out how he would die alone. At the time it had been funny. Now though…..? This strength he was showing was more than admirable. It was noble and had dignity. But I hope it wouldn't kill him. He was, after all, my friend.
Lisbon's voice knocked me out of my thoughts.
"Cho, let's go!"
* I just thought it'd be nice to get someone else's take on what was going on and just love the all seeing, smart, but silent Cho.